#and eclipse can’t see the thing behind him lol

[quirkyfries]

[frogletscribe]

Until It Doesn’t Hurt

Chapter 13: I Wanna Be With You

Summary:

20 years since the RDA was pushed off of the moon of Pandora, they are back once more. The RDA thinks their only problem is the traitor Jake Sully and his family, but as it turns out, Jake wasn’t the only ‘problem’ left behind 20 years ago. 

Anthe was a child soldier, stolen from their home and forced to learn the ways of the humans, erasing any of their connections to the Na’vi from before. Finally free from the RDA’s hold after being trapped in cryosleep, they're about to make themselves everyone's problem.

---

A reunion

_____________________________________________

Pairing: Aged Up!Neteyam X Nonbinary!Na'vi!OC (OC and Neteyam are both around 20)

Warnings: Mentions of Past Violence, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mild Claustrophobia, No Use of Y/N, Blood, Self-depreciation, Neglectful Parenting, Suggestive Themes, Mutual Pining, Hurt-Comfort, Found Family

WC: 3245 words. AO3 Link Here

A/N: New working computer is finally here and I can actually be productive again! I can also finally play A:FoP, and have been doing so lol. At this point, its safe enough to say this fic follows a uh, different TAP facility, not the same one in game. Either way, I am still working on this, even if updates are slow.

Also thank you so much to everyone liking and reblogging my art! I really appreciate the support!

{ } indicate speaking Na'vi

Masterlist

Previous Next

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The sky was a dull grey as Neteyam sat with his siblings and Metkayina friends on the beach, finally finished with their chores. Tsireya warned them from swimming out too far, the storm brewing on the horizon making the waters currents unpredictable. Tenak had left in the early hours of the morning, just as the first rays of light peaked from behind the evening's eclipse, promising to return with Anthe and Spider as soon as he found them. If he even could. 

Neteyam did his best to stay upbeat, rough housing with Lo’ak and Ao’nung as if the previous day's events hadn’t shaken him. As if the photo of Anthe wasn’t burning a hole in his pouch pocket at his side. Kiri still watched him with poorly hidden concern, but for the most part, Neteyam was able to tamp down the lingering ache in his chest. It was getting well into the afternoon now, the fog previously lingering on the darkening horizon, now slowly crawling towards the village. A light mist was settling round the group, humid air sticking to Neteyam’s skin. It was only a matter of time before the rain started.

“{What’s that?}” Tuk asked, pointing out to the horizon. A dark shape was emerging from the fog in the distance. Neteyam stood, squinting as he tried to make out the shape quickly approaching the shoreline. As it got close he could see it was a purple Ikran, its rider crouched low in their saddle, obscured from view. It flew adjacent to them, the rider either not noticing, or avoiding the group below.

“{Who’s Ikran is that? Did Tenak come back already?}” Kiri looked between Neteyam and Lo’ak, as a sudden tension overcame the group, made worse by the heavy air.

“{No, his mount was yellow…}” Lo’ak murmured, coming to stand next to Neteyam as they watched the stranger land some yards down the beach. 

“{More friends of yours, forest boy?}” Ao’nung joked, but the young man was visibly tense as he flanked Neteyam’s other side, hand poised on his knife defensively. Kiri and Tsireya pulled Tuk behind them, watching warily as the boys set a line of defense. This was exactly the sort of thing Neteyam’s father had been worried about when Tenak arrived, that their location would be compromised.

“{Who is it? I can’t see!}” Tuk whined, trying to peer around Kiri as the older girl held their sister back. Neteyam kept his eyes forward, hand on his blade as they watched the stranger dismount. A large back shape was strapped to their back, swinging as they hopped onto the sandy shore. The Ikran chirped, rustling anxiously as its rider seemed to sooth it, their back still to the group of young Na’vi. A twinge of something familiar tugged at Neteyam’s gut, but he ignored it, not wanting to risk being wrong.

“{Kiri, Tsireya, take Tuk home. Tell mom and dad what's happening.}” Neteyam ordered. His first priority needed to be protecting his family.

“{No! I want to stay!}” Tuk was arguing, though she still clung to Kiri’s legs for safety. “{Dad says we have to stick together!}”

“{Tuk-}”

“Holy shit.” Lo’ak’s sudden use of English cutting off whatever Neteyam was about to say, pulling his focus back to the stranger now approaching the group. “{Is that…?}”

A strange awestruck expression crossed Lo’ak’s face, his eyes glued to the figure in the distance. They were Na’vi as far as he could tell, dressed in a tight black top and bottoms not dissimilar to the Metkayina style, and hair tied back in one long and messy braid. Their stride was at first slow, cautious even, and then they were running, the weapon on their back discarded into the sand, tripping over their own feet in their effort. Ao’nung tensed beside Neteyam, the Metkayina man letting out a low warning growl, but Lo’ak rushed to block him. 

“{Wait- Stop!}” Lo’ak was pushing Ao’nung back, but Neteyam was frozen, half convinced his grief-addled mind was just playing tricks on him.

“{Neteyam!}” A familiar voice, calling out to him.

Neteyam’s body was moving before he even fully registered what was happening, the world around him dropping away as he ran full sprint towards Anthe. 

They crashed into each other with such force that it nearly knocked them both into the sand, Neteyam barely holding his balance as Anthe wrapped their arms around his neck, pressing their entire body into him as if he could disappear at any second. Neteyam clung right back pulling Anthe’s smaller frame as tightly to him as he could, burying his face in their neck, the scent of salty sea air and smoke clinging to their skin. He felt Anthe pull back, a pathetic sounding whine escaping his throat as they pulled his face from their shoulder, holding his cheeks as they looked at him. For a moment, Neteyam worried they would push him away again. But they didn’t, instead Anthe pressed their forehead to his, eyes screwed shut as they took deep grounding breaths, their fingers carding through his braids and holding his jaw. 

“{You’re here.}” Neteyam breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper. His bright eyes taking in every inch of them that he could without pulling away. Anthe looked haggard, dark circles under their eyes and hair falling from their braid in windblown tangles. Their body trembled slightly in his arms, hands clinging to him for dear life and tail flicking anxiously behind them.

“{I’m sorry.}” Anthe’s voice cracked as they spoke, golden eyes welling with tears they struggled to blink away. Anthe’s thumbs caressed his cheeks, wiping away tears Neteyam hadn’t even realized had started to spill. 

“{Wait, so… it is another friend?}” Ao’nung huffed, sounding vaguely annoyed as he rudely butted into the intimate moment. 

“{Anthe is a little more than a friend.}” Lo’ak was grinning, the previous tension quickly fading. Neteyam scowled, shooting a half hearted glare over his shoulder at the pair. He felt Anthe shift, moving to see the rest of the group but making no move to leave the circle of his arms any time soon. Kiri and Tuk were quick to pile on with their own hugs and excited greetings.

“{Great Mother, are you okay?}” Kiri gasped, inspecting Anthe for injuries. “{You look terrible!}”

“{I’m okay. Just… tired.}” Anthe gave a half-hearted smile, the shake in their limbs starting to subside as they began to relax in Neteyam’s hold. They were clearly more than just tired, but clinging to the relief of being back with familiar faces and tentative safety. Neteyam nuzzled into their hair, ignoring his siblings giggling at him. 

“{Hello.}” Tsireya smiled as she approached, dragging a reluctant Ao’nung with her. “{I am Tsireya, and this is my brother Ao’nung.}” Tsireya made the gesture for I See You, but Ao’nung crossed his arms, a sour expression on his face as he looked Anthe over. Neteyam glared at the Metkayina man, ears pinning back as he anticipated the mans penchant for nasty comments, but Tsireya beat him to it, elbowing her brother hard in the ribs, still smiling sweetly as ever. Ao’nung doubled over, yelping in pain and swatting his sister away before huffing a stiff ‘hello’ himself.

“{Hi.}” They watched the Reef siblings with interest, returning Tsireya’s gesture. Their tail still flicked anxiously behind them, giving away their nervous state. Neteyam let his own tail catch Anthe’s, twinning them together and stilling their movement.

“{Did Tenak send you? Where is Spider?}” Kiri asked, squeezing Anthe’s hand hopefully. Neteyam felt Anthe tense immediately, watching their face fall from relief to confusion.

“{What?}” 

“{Your brother, Tenak. He was here, he said he was going to bring you and Spider back.}” Neteyam could see the realization cross both Kiri and Anthe’s faces at the same time. Tenak had not found Anthe. Spider was still gone.

“{Y-You saw Tenak?}” There was something raw and painful in Anthe’s voice, an old wound opening back up again. Neteyam squeezed them tighter to his chest as he felt them begin to tremble again.

“{He was here this morning!}” Tuk pipped, the tone of the current conversation going over her head entirely. Anthe looked dazed, their eyes darting back and forth between Kiri and Neteyam for answers.

“{He came out here looking for you. He’s been searching for you this whole time.}” Neteyam said, running his hands along Anthe’s back and hair to soothe them.

“{He’s alive?}” They looked almost bewildered, like the idea was to foreign to understand. Neteyam pulled their head to his chest, letting Anthe anchor themselves to him as they gripped onto his arm. 

“{Him, your sister Kala too.}” Anthe seemed stunned, their grip on his arm tightening. Neteyam fished around in his pouch pocket, pulling out the photo Tenak had given him the night before. Gingerly, Anthe took it, a choked sob escaping them as they realized what it was. 

“{You said he was here this morning?}” Anthe finally asked, once they had gathered themselves again. Kiri nodded. Neteyam watched Anthe process, quickly shaking their head as if to dispel unwanted thoughts. 

“{Come on. Let’s take you home.}” Neteyam could tell it was too much happening all at once for Anthe. In one swift movement, he lifted Anthe into his arms, intent on holding onto them for as long as possible. They made no protests, save a small surprised yelp, but quickly settled, curling into his neck and shoulders as he walked them back down the beach towards the village.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“{The Ta’unui’s Tsakarem sent me here. She said this is where I might find help, I didn’t think she meant you all were actually here.}” Anthe explained. They were exhausted, the emotional whiplash of the day exacerbating the tired ache of their body. Neteyam held close to them, letting Anthe lean into his side as they sat with the Sully family in their new home. Jake Sully listened intently to their story, his expression growing dark as they went on. Anthe fidgetted under the patriarch's gaze, fiddling with a bracelet Spider had made for them out of small river stones and twine. 

“{You’re sure no one followed you? No trackers?}” Jake questioned them. 

“{I’m sure.}” Anthe had been so paranoid about being followed, they’d done multiple checks of all of their gear and even tossed their Ikran’s saddle and tack into the ocean just to be sure.

“{Do you know how they even figured out we were out here?}”

“{There was a helicopter signal that got picked up on radar. I didn’t hear too many details, but Quaritch was sure it would be you.}” Anthe watched Jake pull a frustrated hand down his face, swearing under his breath. He looked back at his wife, pacing back and forth, her tail thrashing wildly behind her in agitation. 

“{Stay here.}” Jake ordered the group, pulling himself and his partner outside and out of earshot. Anthe swallowed, feeling guilty for having brought only bad news with them. Everything in them was screaming that they shouldn’t have come, that everything was their fault, but then they felt Neteyam nuzzling into their side, whispering comfort in their ear, and were reminded how that sort of thinking was exactly what got them into this mess in the first place. Anthe sighed, pulling Neteyam’s arms more closely around them. Neteyam let them, practically hauling them into his lap to bring Anthe closer to him.

“{What about Spider?}” Kiri pressed, brows knit in concern. 

“{He’s okay. I would have brought him with me, but there's still a tracker in his breathing mask. He didn’t want to take the risk.}” Anthe took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

“{Do you think they’ll hurt him?}” Lo’ak said it quietly, more to himself than anyone else, eyes avoiding anyone else’s gaze. He sat further away, knees tucked to his chest. It wasn’t hard to guess what he might be feeling, his brows knit in the same sort of guilty expression Anthe usually wore. Spider had told Anthe about how Lo’ak was usually the one who got into or started trouble for the Sully siblings, Anthe had even seen it for themselves. It wasn’t surprising that the younger man might feel responsible for Spider being taken in the first place.

“{Quaritch will be pissed but he’s…}” Anthe tried to answer, struggling to find the right words to describe the estranged father and son’s relationship. “{... attached to Spider, I don’t think he would hurt him. Spider might lose a little bit of the freedom he had, but if anything, this has just put me on that psychopaths shit list.}” 

“{Spider had freedom? With the RDA?}” Lo’ak scoffed.

“{You’d be surprised.}” Anthe couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “{After a while, Quaritch let Spider, do pretty much whatever he wanted. The only thing holding us back were the trackers. We would have gotten out ages ago, otherwise.}” There was an unintentionally bitter edge to Anthe’s voice. 

“{You’re here now, that’s what matters.}” Neteyam said, softly brushing the hair from their face.

“{Neteyam’s right. Spider will come back to us.}” Kiri huffed, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than anyone else.“{For now, let’s try to clean you up.}”

“{I’m fine-}” 

“{You’re a mess. Neteyam, do you still have the clothes I made them?}” Neteyam nodded. He reached back towards his bag, dragging Anthe with him as they refused to let him go, and pulling out a bundle of cloth.

“{You made me clothes?}” All Anthe had ever worn were RDA issue uniforms, or the clothes leant to them by Avatar scientists. Neteyam and his siblings had tried convincing them to wear more Na’vi garb, but Anthe had always felt too guilty and self conscious for the more revealing attire. 

“{It’s probably not ideal for the water, but it’s better than what you have on now.}” Kiri joked, tugging at the black nylon material of Anthe’s clothing. “{More comfortable too. Neteyam, go help them clean up and change.}” The younger woman pushed the pair towards another more private room of the marui, a sly smile not so subtly gracing her features.

Neteyam was smiling and rolling his eyes playfully as he pulled Anthe with him, closing a privacy curtain behind them. His hands only left them for a second, quickly returning to hold Anthe back in the circle of his arms, pulling Anthe’s back to his chest and resting his chin on their shoulder. From the moment they’d returned, Neteyam was holding or touching them in some way, even in front of the rest of his family. Before, such a level of affection had only been brief and in private, but Anthe found they didn’t mind the change, enjoying the feeling of closeness with another person.

 Anthe took the bundle gently from Neteyam, unwrapping it carefully to reveal the soft green and blue woven garments, and something else. A shining black blade, with a hand-woven and beaded handle and sheath lay tucked between the garments. Anthe felt Neteyam squeeze them lightly as they raised the blade, examining it closely. 

“{I wanted to give it to you before but it wasn’t done when you left…}” Neteyam mumbled into Anthe’s hair. 

“{This is for me?}” Anthe blinked up at him, unbelieving at first that something like this could be for them. Neteyam nodded, his cheeks tinged purple as he nuzzled them with his nose. The blades Na’vi carried with them were their lifeline, a means for survival and connection. Anthe just barely remembered having one as a child, before everything, that they had made with help from family that they could no longer recall. Now, Neteyam had made one for them, carved and assembled with such care and love that Anthe felt like they were short circuiting, suddenly too warm and soft to hold themselves together. 

“{Do you like it?}” Neteyam spoke softly, watching Anthe admire his handy work. Anthe nodded, pressing the gift close to their chest as they turned in his arms, pressing their face into the crook of his neck. Neteyam gave off a warmth that Anthe had desperately missed. It was different from anything they had felt with another person, the soft and comforting promise of safety and understanding. The only other connections they could compare it to was Tenak and Spider, and even those were still completely different. Tenak and Spider were their brother’s in arms, friendships born from the comfort of another person in the face of danger. But their closeness with Neteyam was not born out of mutual struggle and pain. It had come from a place of healing and understanding, built on a trust Anthe had never really encountered before. 

“{Come on, let’s get you changed.}” 

Anthe reluctantly separated from Neteyam, though his hands still held them, bringing them to a mat on the floor. He set about collecting a few clean cloths and freshwater, as Anthe began to undress. Previously, Anthe might have felt more self-conscious about their nakedness in front of another person, being raised by humans instilling a shame in their body that was hard to shake. A part of them still felt bashful, instinctively covering themselves with their arms as Neteyam gently began to wash away the dirt and sweat from their body, but they didn’t feel uncomfortable by any means. They let Neteyam take down their hair and help dress them in the clothes made by Kiri, a comfortable silence encompassing them. When they were finished, Anthe leaned back into Neteyam, who sat closely behind them. Neteyam ran his fingers through their dark hair, carefully pulling apart the tangles. 

“{I’m sorry.}” Anthe said finally, breaking the quiet. They felt Neteyams hands pause, then wrap around their middle and pull them close, his nose pressing lightly into their jaw.

“{You were right.}” Anthe continued. “{I should have stayed, I should have listened to you.}” 

“{Stop, please.}” Neteyam sounded hoarse, squeezing Anthe tighter to him. “{You’re here, you’re safe. That's what matters.}” Anthe turned themselves to look at him, hand cupping his jaw to make him look at them. Neteyams brows were furrowed with worry, his hold around them tight and desperate. He thought they were going to leave again. 

“{I want to stay here. I want to stay with you.}” Anthe pressed their forehead back to his, trying to will away his anxieties. “{I See You.}”  Neteyam took a deep breath, seeming to relax a bit with Anthe’s admission.

“{I See You.}” Neteyam repeated, a small smile replacing the worry. His eyes lingered a moment on their lips before flicking back up to their eyes. The movement was small, but caught Anthe’s attention enough for Anthe to register just how close their lips were to Neteyam’s. Their cheeks flushed, suddenly shy as their own eyes landed on the curve of Neteyams mouth. One of his hands ran softly up their back, holding the back of Anthe’s head, gently pulling them closer and closing the gap between them. 

Neteyam’s lips were soft, molding to Anthe’s mouth like two puzzle pieces fitted perfectly together. They pressed into him, chasing his lips in a desperate kiss they were loath to break. When they did finally break the kiss, both were panting, trying to catch their breath again. Neteyam grinned, pressing back in, peppering small kisses around Anthe’s face and making them laugh. It was pure relief. All the unsaid feelings and emotions, finally out in the open, and neither of them could get enough.

[rocketturtle4]

Thai QL Favorites Tag game

This is my first tag game I’m rather excited,

Thanks @waitmyturtles and @lurkingshan for the tag.

My time on Tumblr has been less than 2 months, and prior to this I primarily watched TV for escapism and wasn’t particularly fussed about how closely shows adhered to reality or its values, so some of that will definitely be reflected here. (Previous genres of TV I’ve been invested in are anime and fantasy, I have seen soooo little western romance or queer cinema or high school movies or a lot of things).

Disclaimer: Emphasis on favourite over best

Also I appreciate Thai BL way more since coming to Tumblr but I have seen rather few shows in that time so there’s a ton I need to watch or rewatch with context that I haven’t yet (Moonlight Chicken, The eclipse, Bed Friend, ITSAY, He’s Coming to Me, My School President and more) so I can’t include them on this list like everyone else seems to be!

I honestly think brevity is an extremely envious skill, and I do not have such skills so here goes.

Favorite Thai QL: SOTUS S (Including the Our Skyy episode) or maybe To Sir With Love, It hasn't been long enough for me to tell yet but both those shows made me scream in different ways

Favorite Pairing: I assumed this was like character couple but some Tumblr searching suggests otherwise. I have watched 0 behind the scene’s footage except what rolls through tumblr and my youtube shorts and I am still learning actors names (Y’all have a habit of referring to actors in photos by their pairing name (e.g. offgun) without context on which one is WHICH so it’s hard to learn names that way lol.

Having said that I started watching BL because Between Us was airing and rolled through my youtube shorts and my first 3 BLs were all watched because of BounPrem (BU, UWMA & Cutie Pie) because I liked their dynamic.

Most underrated actor: see previous statement on my actor confusion. I'll sit down and make a list with pictures one day... or maybe not because that seems creepy

Favorite Character: Arthrit. Seriously I have rarely gotten so attached to a single character, I loved him so much, my demi ass had no idea what I was supposed to do with my actual fricken emotions. I finished SOTUS S with 50 screenshots of him FOR NO REASON. Also, Ae in Love by Chance killed me dead.

Favorite Side Character: I’m taking this as a pairing and choosing ForthBeam from 2 Moons 2, a very recent watch of mine. I thought MingKit was going to be my favourite part of that series and then ForthBeam showed up and knocked them straight out of the park.

Favorite scene in a QL: I sat here for a while deciding whether or not honesty was the best policy, and I decided yes it was SO:

It’s from Love In The Air and it’s a scene between Pai and Sky where Sky is sleeping (nearly recovered from being sick) and the camera switches between Sky’s sleeping, somewhat exposed self and Pai and his ever fraying control as he looks at and away from Sky's sleeping form and he leans closer, and closer, even as he tells himself not to, even as he speaks out loud 'not to loose control now' he leans closer still. Then Sky wakes up, just as Pai’s face is centimetres from his, and Sky asks ‘are you going to jump me P’Pai’ and Pai breathes rather quickly and heavily as he leans back stands up and announces that he needs to use the bathroom before walking swiftly away.

THE RESTRAINT, IT KILLS ME OKAY.

(if this wasn’t Thai only Takara-kun to Amagi-kun’s restraint scene would win)

(I did not have to look that up, this scene LIVES in my brain, at all times)

Although Tian & Lomfon’s final confession and kiss has been looping so often it might be a serious contender, It’s just too soon to say.

Favorite line in a QL: It’s not technically one line but AePete in the locker room after the makeout where Ae asks Pete to be his boyfriend (or some variation thereof) SEVEN TIMES wins for me. That boy is determined to have a clear answer.

Most Anticipated QL (& why): I don’t keep track of upcoming BL, that’s 70% of the reason I initially got Tumblr, everyone’s excited for Only Friends so that one. Or there was one with the pair from Bed Friends that looked interesting, or ZeeNew’s actually with the prince.

Healthiest relationship in a QL: I have not thought about this very hard, but WinTeam maybe? Although they need to communicate better. Also ForthBeams relationship actually seems really healthy too.

Most toxic relationship in a QL: VegasPete, although a rewatch of Kinnporsche with additional context might change my thoughts, (also I haven’t seen tharntype)

Guilty pleasure series: Don’t Say No & Love in the Air although I feel guiltier about the second and I love the first more.

Most Underrated Series: I do not know enough about how series have been rated to make a call, but I was shocked to be told La Pluie was doing badly on mdl so that one.

I tried to check who’d already been tagged and not double up so there arent a lot, but feel free to ignore either way! @shouldiusemyname, @plantsarepeopletoo, @troubled-mind @dribs-and-drabbles

[ramblrthebloghog]

Shadow Fall ‘Review’

Due to discourse around the way Shadow was in IDW, I have decided to go through Shadow Fall from Reboot Archie. The way Ian Flynn seemed to want him to be done while being a little more mindful of the games, with slightly less restriction than IDW. With these different rules, I aim to see if Ian is in the right about Shadow or if maybe he just isn’t great with him. I don’t think there’s a point in looking at Preboot because of how different things are there. At least Reboot tried to act like it considered the games’ portrayals and rules. While I’m primarily looking at Shadow, I’ll also be looking at other things that stood out that I found incompatible with game lore or with game characterizations. Not posting a page means I didn’t really find an issue worth bringing up. It should go without saying but I don’t hate Ian or anything. Just critical of his work.

Something I’d like to note about Omega. It continues even to this day in IDW, but Ian writes Omega as purely a comic relief character. Omega was never a comic relief character (aside from the non-canon Chronicles, which was an outlier that got plenty of other things wrong aside from Omega only being “LOL MEATBAGS”). He had one or two comedic lines in Heroes, but was otherwise very straightforward. I’m not going to call out every instance of Omega the Jokebot in this arc, but if it’s relevant in a page I post, I’ll bring attention to it again. I think this ultimately harms the way Ian approaches Omega—he may never be able to write an Omega on par with 06 if he only sees him as a vessel for laughs. With all that being said, the idea behind this particular instance isn’t even that bad. Omega requesting they dock faster in order to proceed to the mission quickly (and thus get to the destroying/proving his strength) is fine for him, but not in this ‘excited child’ manner.

I don’t know for certain if there being another Black Comet with more Black Arms violates game lore, since as far as I know it’s never been stated and shown explicitly, but I’m going to give the benefit of the doubt that the pitch for this story being approved at all means it doesn’t really violate anything. I like Eclipse anyway. But we’ll get to him.

On a separate note, we’ve reached one of the largest elephants in the room. Team Dark and GUN. I’ll say this now: I don’t believe Sega is wrong about Team Dark from what we’ve heard secondhand courtesy of Ian. The trio doesn’t call themselves ‘Team Dark’ in Heroes, 06, or Forces. They call themselves that in racing competitions—Free Riders and TSR, and the latter actually cuts mention of that name in the JP version. That name IS a ‘brand’ for promotional stuff and merch. Arguably, all Team names are a ‘brand’ except for the Chaotix, since in-universe they run their agency, and the Babylon Rogues, since they are known widely under that moniker. Them being ‘friends’ or not is a different discussion, but I will say that calling them friends vastly oversimplifies their dynamic. Shadow doesn’t call people friends, he calls them ‘ally’. They are together because they constantly work together, not because we have evidence they hang out like Sonic and Tails. Additionally, they’ve only worked for GUN in one game, and that was 06. Maybe they’re working for GUN in Forces or TSR, but it’s not said, so it can’t be assumed for certain. I see the appeal behind making them work for GUN and understand the misconception behind the idea that they do, so I won’t say it’s a huge issue that Ian writes that to be the case here, but it’s also not an issue that it’s barred from IDW. In short, forcing Team Dark bad, putting them with GUN fine. I’ll call out any other instance that I find particularly egregious/not in-line with the games.

I guess I should give praise where it’s due, and so far there’s nothing wrong with Shadow’s dialogue and stuff.

And lastly… Omega again. Whatever.

They’re trying to set up something of a dilemma as Shadow faces his own kind, but there’s no reason the Shadow who eliminated the Black Arms at the end of his game would have this quandary about that now. Quite a bit of the Shadow the Hedgehog game feels straight up rejected despite this arc acting as a sequel to that game. I suppose I should praise Omega being pretty good here. And Rouge’s concern for Shadow is good.

Shadow would never say that. It’s little stuff like this that I bet today’s Sega would take issue with, and for good reason.

The issue of this gas is a little tricky. This technically follows what the game says… in English. In Japanese, the gas is only harmful after a chemical reaction from mixing with Earth’s atmosphere. A minor issue, as this wasn’t corrected on the page and it was a lot harder to know what the games were like in Japanese back then than it is now.

Another tough issue here. Shadow’s Chaos Control and the status of if it can be used without an Emerald is a topic still hotly debated even today. This is also something that is somewhat forgivable, since it was working off the reasonable fanon notion that Shadow can realize that power in a small amount (essentially Chaos Snap) without an Emerald. So long as everyone understands this wouldn’t quite fly exactly the same today, all is good. So far I think it was just Issue 6 of IDW that saw him use Chaos Snap without any Emerald.

Onto Issue 2. Black Death describes using humans and Earth for food. I’ll talk more about it later, but reducing the goal of the Black Arms and Doom to this is stripping them of depth, to say the least.

I’d like to offer a moment of praise here though. Omega was done right, being funny even though he was just speaking factually. And a simple line like Black Death talking about consuming other races adds to the legitimacy of the threat the Black Arms pose, and gives some nice optics to humans for their tenacity.

Not quite a compatibility criticism, but it’s not super clear on how Black Death created a being as strong as Eclipse, in comparison to other regular Black Arms.

Anyway, I love everything about how Eclipse tries to tempt Shadow, and it’s poetic that eventually him trying to do that and giving him that chance will doom the remaining Black Arms. But we soon run into another problem page.

Two massive issues here. Black Doom is supposed to be the head honcho and this arc respects that, but Shadow was able to resist his mind control.

And that’s his direct father. Eclipse just talking to Shadow mentally and showing him things would’ve been fine, but directly exerting control is not something that should’ve happened. Black Death also shouldn’t be able to have control over him. I get the intent that maybe combining their powers helped it work, maybe you can pretend that Eclipse’s powers as a countermeasure combatted Shadow’s resistance, but it really isn’t a thing that should’ve happened regardless. At least, in my opinion. The other big problem is of course Shadow’s motivation. That promise that supposed Shadow ‘fans’ still cling onto. I’m going to say something that’s not up for debate: Shadow should not still be motivated by Maria and her wish after his game.

It does not get more blatant than throwing that photo away and proceeding to a song about how you’ll never turn that way again and move on. This isn’t just about Maria, it’s about every facet of Shadow’s past. Gerald, Doom’s evil wishes, Maria’s good wish, all of it is behind him after killing Black Doom. That is what needed to be maintained and this arc and later Total Eclipse will fail to maintain that. Maybe it makes everyone else clap because they think Shadow should still be motivated by Maria and her wish, but it’s stuff like this that makes me believe that Shadow Fall is a rejection of his own game. It’s fine to be a rehash, but it’s not fine to toss aside what the game itself was beating you over the head about. (I know some people may try to use Sonic Battle as an argument for Mariadow, but that game was written before Shadow the Hedgehog, so it should be viewed under a special lens and be retrofitted to work with this direction. Every other game followed this direction anyway.)

In terms of a story criticism, I found it a little weird that Eclipse is so chill with having Shadow controlled for him to return to the Black Arms. I thought that him having free will meant he wanted Shadow to freely choose to stand beside him as well. But I guess he’ll take what he can get. Anyway, I’m man enough to admit that mind-controlled Shadow is at least cool.

Onto Issue 3. Another instance where Omega is both funny while not completely compromising him for a laugh. Something to mention is that last issue drew the Chaos Spears correctly, but this page reverts to the Archie version of literally making it a spear. It’s never been like this in the games and it was annoying to see IDW do that too.

I haven’t brought up Rouge, but that’s because so far I found her to be good, completely fine and in-line. Here’s where that kind of ends though. This moment isn’t as great as it’s trying to be. Rouge has never really dealt with Shadow using this harsh of an approach. I get that it was “what was needed” to get through to him under mind control, but… it shouldn’t have been? I just don’t think it really accurately represents how Rouge handles wrangling Shadow or supporting him in rough times. That being said, this is adjusted within the next two pages.

This page is so mixed for me. In Rouge’s case, it starts out really well in those top three panels. That’s the tenderness and support I thought was missing, and I can tolerate her playful teasing about dredging up Maria. Shadow and Omega drop the ball here for me though. Omega is unfunny here, and they’re both forced into this “team moment” that is exactly the kind of thing that fans want and Sega doesn’t. I get it. Team Dark’s bond is super appealing. But people need to remember that the development they underwent in 06 does not carry over. They won’t act like that again unless directed to undergo a trial like that again and let it stick. If not, they will act as they do in Forces, which matches Shadow’s “all-business” attitude at the beginning of his 06 campaign. This page is obviously trying to do something close to the effect of 06-esque Team Dark bonding and I think it falls flat. I don’t think them standing around professing their love for each other like this is good or sensible for them. It’s not in-line with the games and how they’re supposed to act. The 06 moment works largely because of its context. Trying to recapture that magic here feels like it didn’t understand what made that moment work, even though I do see value in making them affirm their trust in one another—hence why Rouge’s part is so good.

I don’t think Shadow would call them partners. I think it’s more fitting if he were to call them allies here. This is the Ultimate problem with Ian and the Ultimate Lifeform. He’s far too heavy-handed, and I think to write Shadow well takes a degree of nuance. And I think it’s a matter of nuance based on how we heard from him that Shadow’s monologue in IDW #31 wasn’t approved until they were thought bubbles contained to his mind only. Ian’s not the only one to struggle, of course. This isn’t worse than Boom or even Generations. But it’s not good either and I think that needs to be said. Ian is not being held back from greatness by Sega in regards to Shadow. Ian has just never really gotten Shadow as well as someone like, say, Knuckles.

When Sega says Team Dark isn’t a team or that they aren’t friends, it’s because this inaccurate portrayal is the exact kind of thing they’re aiming to prevent. Shadow is never gonna say “Team Dark, roll out!” in IDW and that is for the better. Of course, that’s a little harder to argue when disparities like this exist.

Credit where it’s due, this is the best from Shadow in this entire arc. This is how you handle him. He will complete his goals and won’t hear otherwise, and he’s made his own choices. And of course this looks badass.

Finally, Issue 4. Black Death’s powers are pretty cool. His attempt at swaying Shadow falling on deaf ears is exactly what should be happening. Shadow himself here is good. Once again reiterating ‘choice’, and even having the cool stoic ominous statement of “make your peace before the end”. That being said, it all goes to ruin very quickly with the next page.

When people think of Shadow Fall, they think of this page. This page is quintessential Shadow Fall, and is probably why a lot of people really resonate with this arc. And I’ll admit the cool factor here is pretty obvious. But I’ll go so far as to say this is the worst page of the entire arc.

Firstly, THIS is peak ‘Muhria’. No post-Shadow 05 agency, nope, he’s doing this because he made the promise. I get that it makes people clap, but it’s wrong. 06 was able to handle Shadow in a compelling way without dredging her up, and we all kind of agree that’s the best Shadow aside from SA2, so why is this so hard to emulate? When I look at stuff like this, it makes it hard to believe Ian is writing a proper Shadow that big bad Sega is striking down and leads me to instead believe that he falls into fanon traps that need to be stopped. This reliance on Muhria is one of them.

Secondly, this is exactly why I say they stripped the Black Arms of their depth. Shadow’s answers here—“destruction of everyone else”, “see everyone as fuel”, “thousand ravenous monsters”—fly in the face of Black Doom’s nuance. 

Black Doom believed he was giving humanity a good purpose, salvation, via turning them into an energy source for Black Arms. This way they wouldn’t destroy themselves. Now, it could be argued that this larger goal was cast aside once the Black Arms’ numbers were reduced, but I’d believe that if it were ever acknowledged at all. If Black Death ever referenced Doom’s larger plan and said they weren’t in a position to act like that. I may not have liked that either, but it’d at least be acknowledging Black Doom’s real plan as opposed to just… sanding everything down. Ian’s talked about the Black Arms on Bumblekast a few times and doesn’t seem to view them or Doom as anything more “they eat people”.

Lastly, maybe it’s because it’s easier to draw, maybe it’s because that’s how Archie did it before, but that is not the way Shadow’s Inhibitor Rings work in Sonic X or in 06. They aren’t bracelets that snap on and off like that, they’re bangles that slide off. I’m certain if we saw the Rings come off in IDW, they’d appear like this to actually be respectful to the source material. This disregard for the source material in such a small way is emblematic of larger problems with Archie.

Just wanted to say I did clap at “SU062”. Monster Form is cool. Omega’s first speech bubble was good before his second and third devolved.

I’d like to call to attention that Shadow removed his Inhibitors here and won the fight. While I can’t speak definitively, it adds credence to a personal theory I have that Shadow’s Inhibitors being removed during IDW’s Metal Virus was denied because he would’ve lost, and that’s simply a no-no regarding the Rings.

I’d also like to say that poor Eclipse in these pages did a really good job of making me feel bad for his situation and the annihilation of the rest of his people.

Final nitpick? I’m not sure what Rouge meant by “unprotected” in the vacuum of space. Being stuck there or falling is dangerous, but it’s not like they wear space suits or have a problem breathing there.

All in all, it’s a nice arc, but it shouldn’t be seen as evidence that Ian can write a proper game-accurate Shadow. On the contrary, unfortunately. I don’t think I have anything more to say beyond what I’ve said thus far. Thank you for reading. I will cover Total Eclipse in the future, but I highly doubt it will be this lengthy when I do.

[bthump]

How do you think a Griffguts roleswap would play out?

Like Godhand Guts vs Black Swordsman Griffith?

I honestly can’t imagine what would drive Guts to make a godhand sacrifice lol, I’ve tried to think of something before and couldn’t. But assuming there is something that could drive him to sacrifice the Band then, yk, I think it could be an interesting premise. I could see a Beast of Darkness version of Guts being much more overtly obsessed with Griffith than Femto was with Guts, because Femto’s aloofness comes from Griffith’s desire to escape his feelings imo, while Guts may not have that exact desire necessarily when he makes the sacrifice.

As an incarnate Godhand idk what Guts would want lol. To be the biggest and strongest I guess. Maybe he’d be more like Gaiseric and build a shitty empire just to prove he’s the best, rather than to create a utopia lol. OR maybe he’s obsessed with getting Griffith’s attention and admiration but evily. Idk where that could go though, at least not in something aiming for the canon tone rather than, yk, porny fanfic lol. Guts builds an empire just to get Griffith’s attention and feel like his superior and there’s a ton of homoerotic suggestiveness when they meet. Griffith is still the one pretending (badly) not to care about Guts beyond wanting to kill him.

Anyway, onto Griffith. tbh he’s a little difficult to imagine because he doesn’t have Guts’ tenacity when it comes to preserving his own life. Frankly it’s hard for me to envision a post-Eclipse Griffith who doesn’t just give up and get possessed and killed by ghosts. Unless he had something to strive for, some reason to believe his dream is still achievable, or if he becomes just as obsessed with revenge as he was for his dream. Maybe his motivation of making sure the mountain of bodies behind him wasn’t for nothing ends up twisting into desperately needing to avenge them/his dream.

Anyway if he does end up persevering like Guts did I’d love to see Femto getting all Beast of Darkness-y and taunting Griffith in his dreams. Can’t imagine a better use for Black Swordsman-style petty Femto. Also Femto berserk armour would be cool as fuck. I’ve thought about it before and I imagine that Griffith’s thing in the armour would be precision rather than wild destruction, like imagine him striding through a group of monsters and eviscerating each one almost robotically, arm casually snapping backwards to catch someone behind him... sure it doesn’t fit the definition of “berserker” but it would fit Griffith and it would be cool.

Also I think Griffith would hate Puck more than Guts did at first. Like he’d actually hate him, idk if they’d work as a duo lol. I just don’t see Griffith taking well to an empath who can sense his feelings and calls him out on it. In general I can’t really see Griffith following Guts’ Millenium Falcon arc lol. I could see him protecting Casca and choosing to help her a lot more readily than Guts did, assuming the Casca situation was the same (big assumption ik, but w/e). Not because Griffith cares about her more (though he might, honestly, platonically) but because being strong for Casca is specifically how he helps shore himself up and bury his own feelings and I think he’d leap at the chance to be her protector. And he would also want her mind back as the last remnant of the Hawks.

Though it would be a sidequest for sure for him, he’d know he’s going back to getting revenge after, because if that’s what replaces his dream then Casca’s not gonna be much of a distraction. He might assume Casca would join him when she’s restored. And he might be right.

And I suppose I can see Griffith gathering followers, I mean Guts gathering the rpg group is kind of a parallel to Golden Age Griffith already lol, so it’s not much of a stretch. Actually yeah I can imagine him following much the same plot as Guts, but with the caveat that there’s definitely no actual personal growth there, it’s Griffith putting on his facade again.

Thanks for asking!

[probably-haven]

Kaeya Alberich & Why his Failure is Inevitable

A theory on Kaeya’s reaction to- that event in his backstory.

take everything with a grain of salt , because it’s heavily based on assumptions, most of which are centered around his reaction to- backstory stuff, so gonna put that under the cut-. i actually originally said this in a reblog to someone asking the exact question awhile ago

im kinda in a content drought though so i might as well bring it back, hopefully some people find it interesting in this context though. Lol a lot of it is just seeing how angsty i can make it too so- ehe

actual content under the cut: (spoilers for kaeya’s backstory, diluc’s backstory, Khaenri’ah lore, and a bit of Childe’s backstory)

so the exact verbiage used in kaeya’s story for his reaction to Master Crepus’s death is: “Even someone like Master Crepus would submit to such a dangerous and evil power…” Sinister thoughts flashed through Kaeya’s mind, and he simply smirked— “This world is truly… fascinating.”

-

Now I’m actually pretty sure this quote ties in, not to the destruction of khaenri’ah, but to the cataclysm before it. Specifically, it deals with the Khaenri’ahn alchemist Gold who started it.

Canonically, Gold was an incredibly ambitious alchemist specializing in khemia 500 years ago. Their most well know achievement is corruption of the dragon Durin, but concealed much deeper in Teyvat’s history, a number of Gold’s legacies include incorporating the powers of the abyss into their alchemy(and eventually being corrupted by those very same powers, tho it might be a translation error), followed by the destruction of Khaenri’ah’s Eclipse Dynasty(including the royal family and the royal guards tasked with protecting the people of Khaenri’ah), and this was followed shortly by ‘using their talents to create an army of “shadowy monsters."’

these monsters, blood filled with the corruption of the abyss, would only continue pouring out of Khaenri’ah in waves until the fateful day that it was destroyed. The era of suffering these monsters caused would come to be known as the cataclysm.

-

taking those facts into account, it could be a remark about how even someone as kind hearted as Master Crepus could fall to the temptation and corrupting aspects of power that caused his people’s fall so long ago, even without the naturally corruptive effects of power from the abyss. that’s sad- but if you get into the theory of it its even sadder the further you go.

Now theory wise its important to make a few connections- I am under the impression that the “fall of the Eclipse Dynasty” that Gold caused through abyssal power was actually the first instance of Khaenri’ah’s curse, and the monsters of the cataclysm- were among the curse’s first victims.

a bit sadder with the fact that his statement can now refer to his feelings of there truly being nothing that could have been done to prevent the very same exact curse that has caused him so much suffering through his life. There was no resisting the corruption of power, only delaying it. It hammers in the fact that the reason he was sent to Mondstadt truly might be the destiny he had many times been told it was. A cruel joke from Celestia perhaps?

but not sad enough. let’s pull out the big one. The Khaenri’ahn Royalty Kaeya theory. (there’s a lot- im not gonna cover the explanation behind that one here)

Gold, the most powerful alchemist in Khaenri’ah would likely have worked under the Eclipse Dynasty, so assuming the theory of Kaeya(and Dainsleif) being the last member of the Eclipse Dynasty, its reasonable to say he would have known Gold. Now whether Gold was a good person or not is irrelivant because it remains the same either way. Kaeya has twice seen the corrupting abilities that come with power strip him of all those close to him, shouldering him with an additional responsibility to carry out in their memory that he never wanted. Yes this hurts more if he was close with Gold and Crepus managed to make him feel safe enough to get close to people even after that- but I’m here to provide the facts and theories, not the emotions, though theres a lot

but…. its a stretch(like a big stretch)… but for the sake of going all out on a limb, we can take this one step further.

In Childe’s story it references the abyss by saying “this dark realm had sensed the burning ambition in this boy’s heart” and it can be assumed that the powers granted by the abyss, as the natural opposition to Celestia(natural as in abyss magic literally opposes the magic of Celestia by nature) might just opporate in a similar way to the gnosises. Kaeya has no knowledge of gnosises though so for now lets use the word visions.

The powers of the abyss that were given to Gold would likely have been favored over visions from the gods in a godless nation like khaenri’ah afterall. and if he knew Gold, a known genius, he likely wouldnt have noticed anything off until it was too late. A sudden fall from his perspective. Visions, delusions, power from the abyss, what difference truly is there to a child raised to shun the gods. All are granted through ambition, and all will only end in suffering

afterthought:

However the main thing behind the Khaenri’ahn Royalty aspect of this angst fest- Kaeya would have been extremely young during Gold’s corruption and Khaenri’ah’s fall… like i cant help think of that one tik tok audio “that must be so confusing for a little girl” but it really does fit because now i can’t shake the imagery of Kaeya, faced with the imagery of the man who raised him dead as a result of a power he chose to use. And he finally understands what he was too young to understand back then. the world is not fascinating in a way that he is interested in it or wants to know more about it, but more interesting in the way that people’s eyes are involuntarily drawn to images of tragedy. It’s an expression of cruel irony, of truths he was forced to face, of knowledge he doesn’t want to know, but that he needs to know- if he plans on carrying through with his destiny- siding against Mondstadt. but siding with Mondstadt would cause him to turn against Khaenri’ah as Gold had all those years ago, and is that not fulfilling a cycle of fate all the same?

It’s an expression of mourning. He is chained by the legacy of Khaenri’ah and there’s nothing he can do to escape it. Either way the cycle will repeat. This fate gives him a unique power and even he will eventually succumb to it, doomed to be viewed as a corrupted betrayer no matter who he sides with, to doom yet another civilization in return. Such is his preordained role as the last hope of Khaenri’ah. The unescapableness, the way it all becomes so sure and clear and nauseatingly relevant in that very moment are what drive him to say that as he finally realizes that he cannot win.

-

of course a lot of this is a stretch and just theories, but the angst potential was there so i decided to run with it lmao

additional afterthought: this isn’t something kaeya would know, but the corruption of Durin by Gold was actually predicted by a priestess in dragonspine before Celestia destroyed it and made it like it is now.

just angsty because it reinforces the idea of a repeating cycle of foretold destiny that no matter hard hard Kaeya tries, he will never be able to escape. Really puts Mona’s “He believes he has made a clean break with his past, but one day fate will catch up with him” line into perspective.

[morgana-ren]

SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom? 

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that. 

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then? 

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track. 

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him. 

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves. 

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up. 

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right. 

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins. 

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol 

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move? 

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will 

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t. 

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

 ‘Maybe I will.’ 

That’s how it starts. 

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties. 

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper. 

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils. 

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now. 

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties. 

“Shit-” 

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-”  He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you.  “Yeah- yeah, sure.” 

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.” 

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

[taephilia]

lost (myself) & found (you)

pairing: jeon jungkook x gn!reader

genre: fluff, soulmate au, based off of kimi no na wa

warnings: one (1) swear word

word count: 2,120

a/n: i saw this quote from the movie and inspiration just struck and i haven't been able to get it out of my head since. ofc i wrote this for jungkook since he's a weeb and said he would also want to hear bells ring when he meets his soulmate <3 also this is not edited lol i'll come back to it later, i just wanted to get this out

"Once in a while when I wake up, I find myself crying. The dream I must’ve had I can never recall. But… the sensation that I’ve lost something, lingers for a long time after I wake up." - Tachibana Taki, Kimi No Na Wa (2016)

Jungkook isn’t sure how long he’s felt like this—felt like something is missing, something important, something that his heart just can’t seem to let go of even if his brain has already forgotten. He knows that he dreams of whatever it is. He recalls scenes as he goes about his day; a loud laugh here, a brush of a hand against his there. People that he’s never seen before walking by him in a city he’s never been to, music playing on the radio that he’s never heard, a family that he comes home to that he doesn’t recognize at all. It’s all very strange and Jungkook is starting to wonder if maybe the late night ramen he’s built up a habit of eating has gone bad or maybe the unhealthy amounts of salt in it are the cause behind this. Because it was all fun and games until Jungkook’s heart starts to ache, like it’s calling out to someone that his brain can’t even conjure up an image for. Someone that he would search the ends of the cosmos for, someone that, whenever he feels like he gets close to them, slips right through his fingers like grains of sand. But he shakes it off whenever the feeling comes and ignores the heavy feeling in his chest in favor of paying attention to that day’s classes. If he had somehow found his soulmate, it definitely wouldn’t be someone in his hometown in the countryside.

Soulmate. That’s who his grandfather had told him he’s been dreaming about ever since Jungkook confessed almost two months ago about the reason behind his ever-present furrowed brows and faraway look in his eyes. He says that it had happened to him when he was around Jungkook’s age but, like most dreams, he’s forgotten who it was. He then went on to talk about the red thread of fate and that’s when Jungkook started tuning out. It’s a nice concept to think about when you’re a child—a red string tied around your pinky that connects you to the person that you’re destined to be with—but it’s just a myth and Jungkook doesn’t have time to think about things that aren’t real. Not when he barely has the time to think about the things that are real, like college entrance exams and graduating from high school.

So he buries his head in his books and pours every last drop of blood, sweat, and tears into his studies to get into his dream college in Seoul. The yearning in his heart doesn’t go away but it’s eclipsed by the pure exhaustion that he feels at the end of every day. And, like most dreams, he forgets.

Jungkook is 23 when he seriously begins to wonder whether or not he’s going crazy. He had thought he was going over the deep end while in college but hearing bells go off? Now that takes the cake. It happens at random; he never knows when the bells in his head will ring (and Jungkook knows that only he can hear them because nobody around him ever gives any sort of indication that they’ve heard them) no matter how much he tries to prepare for it. He checks his surroundings every day, eyes scanning over the crowds of people weaving around him in Seoul, but it’s no use. The only consistent location that they seem to chime in is when he’s on the metro and even then, it’s on random days, at random times, and not always at the same stop.

He’s not the type to go chasing after fairy tales, or at least, he isn’t anymore. He doesn’t have time to think hard and long about what these imaginary bells could mean, not when he has a job to do and people to impress and money to be made. And his grandfather died during his second year of college so the only conversation of “soulmates” that occurs now are the ones he has with himself in his head and the memories of their conversations years ago. But as fate would have it, Jungkook took a couple of days off to get an early start to the weekend and he is just itching for an adventure. So when he hears the bells go off while he’s making his way to his connecting train, he closes his eyes for a brief moment and puts himself into the hands of fate.

Jungkook allows his feet to carry him where they want, observing his surroundings and keeping an eye out for any person who gives any sort of indication to hearing something that they shouldn’t be hearing. He climbs up the stairs and out of the station, not giving any attention to the people who side-eye him for standing still on a bustling sidewalk, but looks down at his hand instead. In particular, at his pinky, which feels like there’s something squeezing at it. Like… like a thread that’s been tied snugly around it.

The red thread of fate, a voice in his head whispers to him and Jungkook almost chuckles out loud at the thought. And then almost laughs out loud again because, although he doesn’t believe in soulmates, his actions say otherwise. Because as much as Jungkook doesn’t believe in soulmates… Well, the thought of them and the red thread of fate being real is nice, isn’t it? Someone that you’re destined to be with, connected to by a string that can tangle and stretch but will never fray, keeping you tied to them for all eternity. It’s a comforting thought, especially when he thinks of his extremely lacking love life that comes with his high standards and fear of rejection.

Jungkook passes by a bakery during his fate-led walk and just as he’s considering stopping in to buy something, he hears the bells again. A light sound, one that could be mistaken for a phone notification, but one that he knows very well. But Jungkook’s soulmate must be as used to the sound as he is because no one around him gives any sort of indication that they’re also in search of him. And after an hour and a half of walking around a part of the city that he isn’t too familiar with, he’s ready to call it quits for the night. So Jungkook makes his way to the nearest metro station and gets on a train home.

Of course, that’s when he hears the bells again.

He looks up from his phone and around the crowded train but nobody has been able to move since the doors closed. And if it were someone near him, he would have heard them before. There’s a flash out of the corner of his eye and when Jungkook looks up and out the window of the sliding doors, he sees a pair of eyes staring back. A pair of eyes that are not his but in fact belong to someone in a train traveling right next to his. They stare right at him and mirror his own when they widen at the exact same time as his. But just as soon as Jungkook finds you, he loses you just as quickly when your train goes in a different direction.

Jungkook spends the entire day the next day looking for you. He manages to cross off everything on his “things to do when I’m in Seoul” bucket list that he’s been adding on to for the past 10 years. His feet hurt, his wallet feels significantly lighter than when he first left his apartment, and he’s wondering how much weight he lost from walking what feels like the entire expanse of Seoul three times over. And even after all that, he hasn’t heard the bells. Not once.

And it’s at this point, when Jungkook decides to eat dinner at his favorite ramen shop before calling it a night, that he begins to wonder if he had missed his chance last night. Not like it was much of a chance considering the fact that you were on a different train and he had no way of getting to you. But fate is cruel, isn’t that what some people say? Maybe his thread is just so tangled, so frayed, that it’ll take a lifetime before he’s able to get another glimpse at you. And Jungkook just isn’t that patient.

He can barely even remember what you look like anymore. Maybe it’s the hunger eating away at his stomach and the aching of his feet but as he eats his ramen, he can only recall vague details about you. Like how he wants to drown in your eyes, how soft your skin looks even through two dirty train door windows, and how he thinks your shiny hair probably smells nice - like vanilla or peaches or something. But your face? Absolutely nothing. It’s like he blacked out the second he looked up at you last night.

Jungkook leans back in his seat as he sips at his water, staring out the window of the shop as if you would walk past right that second. But you don’t. So Jungkook throws a couple of bills down onto the table for a tip and heads out, a sigh leaving his lips when he looks around but doesn’t hear any bells. Now that he’s had a chance to sit down and eat, he feels a bit more rational and more determined to find you—but that can wait until tomorrow after he’s had a good night’s sleep. It’s a bit later in the evening so there’s barely anyone around him as he makes his way to the nearest metro station that will take him home. Jungkook is just about to descend the stairs when something makes him stop. He’s not really sure what it is that he stops for; the bus honking on the street beside him or the group of friends laughing as they walk by him? Or perhaps it’s the person at the bottom of the stairs, their eyes looking down as they climb up, but Jungkook just knows that it’s you.

Well, he doesn’t actually know. He’s pretty sure it’s you. It feels like it’s you. But is that fate talking or just his hopeful heart? Jungkook decides not to say anything and slowly walks down the stairs. The bells will tell him if he’s right. Your eyes glance up and meet his and Jungkook sees them widen, but like him, you don’t say anything. Are you waiting to hear your own bells?

He shoves his hands deep into the pocket of his hoodie, eyes quickly darting away from yours to stare holes into the ground as he keeps walking. His heart beats faster with every step and he has to resist the urge to just stare at you point blank because he needs to know and-

He hears the bells. And it’s like a weight is taken off of his shoulders.

But he keeps walking. And you keep walking. And now Jungkook is panicking because why the fuck is he still walking? You’re his soulmate, he found you, so why isn’t he stopping? Jungkook tries to get his feet to stop moving, to just turn around and call out to you but he can’t. What would he even say? ‘Hey, you’? He doesn’t even know your name. ‘I think you’re my soulmate’? How disgustingly cliche. What if you don’t even care that he’s your soulmate? What if you’re already seeing someone? What if he’s the only one that can hear the bells for you and you hear them for someone else? What if-

“Um, excuse me?”

Jungkook almost trips on the last step from how fast he turns around at the sound of your voice. His hands feel clammy but he keeps them in his pocket otherwise you’d be able to see how they’re shaking ever so slightly. He drags his eyes up to yours and suddenly, every bit of anxiety he felt is suddenly gone. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

“Have we met before? You seem really familiar.”

You’re at the top of the stairs now but you step down a few steps, as if you want to get closer. Jungkook climbs back up a few steps because he does want to get closer. There’s an easy smile on his face as he says, “Found you.”

He isn’t sure where it came from. He isn’t even exactly sure what he means. But it feels like the right thing to say, like something that he’s vaguely remembering from a dream he had a long time ago. And judging from the matching smile on your own face, you know what Jungkook means.

“Took you long enough.”

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 1: Dancing Devils

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

The storm is too tempting not to dance in... and far too romantic to be alone in. Liu Kang arc of my story The Oncoming Storm.

A/N: When I'm writing Liu's chapters I'm like 100% team Liu and then I write Lao chapters and I'm 100% team Lao and it is a problem LOL. Hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for reading.

The Oncoming Storm Part 2 Chapter Index

It would be hours before the storm got to the temple with full ferocity. From what you’d heard it wasn’t supposed to be more than showers and thunder until the next afternoon. That was when it was supposed to get dangerous. It seemed worth the risk of staying out front so you could get that firsthand view of the storm as it approached. You’d head back inside once the lightning got too dangerous.

You’d earned this.

Several monks had asked you multiple times to join them inside for a drink before the rain started but you’d told them about your plan with some excitement. They’d disapproved but couldn’t give you a real reason not to do it either. Storm clouds were creeping toward the temple with the setting of the sun and soon they would obscure any light that remained. You were excited.

It seemed a simple thing. A simple and beautiful thing. The clouds that approached were dark and menacing but to you they were mesmerizing. You could see lightning in the distance, illuminating the clouds and the mountains, reflecting off the sand of the desert. You smiled and felt some of the weight of your recent stress roll from your shoulders.

Clouds eclipsed the temple but the thunder remained in the distance. You could see the clouds feathering at the bottom, rain falling miles away. Then you heard the first sweet and soft taps of rain. It stained the dirt into mud. It was a slow drizzle at first and the sound nearly put you to sleep and in the same breath sent a thrill straight through you.

The slow rhythmic patter of rain on the dirt and stone became a rapid torrent of water, soothing and accompanied with the distant rumble of thunder. You reached from beneath the overhang and let the water pool in your palm and drip up to your arm, staining your shirt and your shorts.

You got goosebumps from head to toe from the cool water on your hot skin. That day had been particularly warm, and you’d overdone it while helping prepare for the storm. Slipping off your worn shoes, you carefully set them just inside the cavern that led further into the temple before walking out into the desert in the rain. You put some distance between you and the temple but not so much that you couldn’t run for cover if the weather worsened.

It took seconds to be drenched through your clothes but you didn’t care. You spun in the rain and laughed. Your hair stuck to your face, your neck, messy and unruly. You walked through the mud, allowing it to seep between your toes. You played in puddles that splashed around you in a tremendous spray of water. For those blissful few minutes nothing else matter.

No one was there to tell you not to be out there. Nothing weighed you down. There was still pain from obvious trauma but even that seemed lesser in those precious moments. You could picture some storm cloud deity coming to pick you up and share in your worship of nature.

The only thing that mattered was the rain and the distant thunder.

With a wave of your hand you summoned your arcana to make storm clouds that surrounded you. You laughed as they followed you while you spun and danced in the rain. The music of the storm was all that you needed to keep rhythm. You hadn’t been that muddy or wet and cold in years. You couldn’t mimic the lightning with your arcana but you could mimic the rain. You didn’t for long, not wanting to be soaked in ink again. You didn’t need to ruin anymore clothing. Even while you were easily winded, you still danced. It would be worth the exhaustion you’d feel later.

Thunder crackled suddenly far closer and you stopped and laughed, hand to your chest in wonder at the sudden display of nature. You hadn’t even seen the lightning that went with it! The crash had been so loud you’d nearly leapt out of your skin. You laughed and crouched low to the ground, holding your head in your hands. You could have cried. Recently things had felt so complicated but this wasn’t. This was simple.

And perfect.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted from behind you in the entranceway. You stood and turned back to find Liu Kang running toward you. You pushed your mess of wet hair from your face and blinked free of the happy tears that had threatened you. You waved with a grin. He hurried to you, hand held over his eyes to block out the rain as it whipped at his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Liu!”

“I was… one of the monks told me that you decided to stay out while the storm rolled in.” He seemed concerned. The water had drenched him in seconds, so he moved his hand away from over his face. It had been futile to try and stay dry.

“I mean… yeah.” You laughed taking a step back and holding your arms out on either side of you. Liu looked beyond confused but you were just happy to see him. You hadn’t seen him since you’d hurt him. You’d missed his face. You’d missed his voice. You’d missed him.

“You’re going to get sick.” He laughed in disbelief and offered you his hand. “Come inside with me.” The worry radiated off of him as if often did. Liu Kang’s emotions often hung around him like an aura. “The storm is supposed to be tremendous.”

“Look at it, Liu!” You ignored his hand and turned away, gesturing toward the dark clouds swirling overhead. You weren’t afraid of them. “The rain. The clouds. The lightning. The wind.” You closed your eyes and turned your face to the sky, feeling the beat of each raindrop as it soaked you. “It’s amazing. It’s beautiful.” You could feel Liu’s eyes on you at first with concern and then admiration. He walked next to you and did just as you had asked him too. Your eyes fluttered open and you wiped away the water though it burned at your tired eyes.

“It is beautiful, Y/N.”

“It seems like such a simple thing.” You shivered from the cold of the water, fixated on the clouds as they swirled together. In a way, it reminded you of your arcana and that was a nice feeling. Maybe this was where and what you were meant to be. To see. To use the strength you’d built up to conquer whatever this was. “I take this for granted. The rain. The thunder. It happens all the time. It’s a part of life but for this… for this to happen, Liu, do you know all the things that have to line up? That have to go right to make it work? It’s amazing. A perfect cycle that nature completes all the time without anyone’s help and it leaves me breathless.”

He watched you. You turned away slowly and felt silly for gushing about the weather. It was such a simple thing but it had brought you such joy. When you looked back to him he was still staring at you with a look that you recognized by now. Longing. Like he’d wanted something you had, desperately but didn’t know how to get it.

Your face felt hot with embarrassment and nerves but you still smiled.

“I hadn’t thought about it.” He laughed in surprise, eyes sparkling with delight. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I love storms. In case you can’t tell.” You watched the clouds before catching his gaze again. Your smile faltered. He grasped your hand and held it close to his chest. Even drenched, his hands were warm.

Guilt. There it was again.

You’d hurt him. He left your palm on his chest so you could feel the soft and rhythmic beating of his heart, a stark contrast to the rapid slamming of yours. He stepped closer and his hand cupped your cheek. His eyes were shimmering with admiration, and you shook off the chills. No one looked at you the way that Liu Kang looked at you. He pulled you into his arms and held you close. You could feel his face buried against the side of your neck, his strong arms surrounding you. He was so much warmer than you were that it was almost funny. Your arms slipped around him, and you grasped him close, brow furrowed as you buried your face against his shoulder.

His fingers tangled into your wet, messy hair and you held him so tight you swore that you might even hurt him but he didn’t complain. It had been silly to wonder why he hadn’t seen you in the days past. He’d missed you. You could feel it in the beating of his heart, in the way that he drank you in with just a hug. You could feel his lips pressed just against the side of your neck, warm breaths caressing wet skin.

Even as you jumped at the closeness of the sudden thunder, Liu Kang only held you tighter. The rain fell suddenly in torrents and you laughed against his shoulder. You lifted yourself up and had to lean back to force him away from your shoulder so your could look at him. Wiping the rain from his face, you blinked away the sudden hot emotion behind your eyes again. Hand in your hair, he rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. His fingers traced over your jaw and your cheek, pulling free wisps of wet hair that stuck to your face.

Liu Kang made you weak in the knees.

Thunder crashed again and the wind nearly knocked you both over.

“…okay, maybe it’s time to go back inside.” You laughed nervously, heart in your throat.

“I agree.” He released you from his grasp but not entirely. He took your hand and together you walked back to the temple. You were led by him through the cave along the path you already knew but it still felt nice to be led. He sealed the entryway behind you and then led you down the hall, fingers laced with yours. Every so often he glanced back at you and you were delighted by the smile on his face. It almost felt surreal. Like you were having a wonderful dream.

But it wasn’t a dream.

He led you up a flight of stairs and then let go of your hand. He sat on the wide sill of one of the windows in the hall there and urged you to take the seat next to him. You were both drenched and sat together in silence. The storm was rolling in and you were mesmerized. You were also exhausted. That day had been long and busy. The excitement of dancing in the rain and then finally getting to see Liu Kang had filled you with adrenaline that was now crashing.

The memory of his arms around you made you shiver.

His fingers brushed slowly down your arm, and you got the chills and for once made no attempt to hide it.

“You’re freezing,” he whispered.

“I’m fine.” Your teeth chattered as if to betray you. Much to your surprise, Liu Kang took off his shirt and draped it over your shoulders. It was soaked so you didn’t think it would help that much. You laughed. It was warmer than you were but that was because Liu Kang was warm. He was a big ol’ space heater. Your smile faded as you saw the gauze wrapped tightly around his arm where you’d hurt him.

You tried to focus on how sweet it had been for him to literally offer you the shirt off his back instead of the fact that you had maimed him. But you couldn’t shake it and the smile was lost. He watched you curiously but said nothing as if waiting for you. You didn’t know what to say other than that you were sorry. And you knew that wasn’t the right word anymore. You knew what he would say to you being sorry. He would tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that he hadn’t regretted what he’d done.

But you were sorry. For so many things.

“How’s your arm?” You decided that was a good start. You hadn’t gotten to talk nearly at all. Instead, he’d held you in the rain like he hadn’t seen you in years and you had been the most precious thing in his life.

“Healing.” He chose his words carefully so you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. He laughed at you. “Don’t…”

“Don’t tell me not to feel guilty, Liu. I feel guilty. So shush.”

“Don’t shush me.” He chuckled in amusement. You tilted your chin up as if to say you already had. He took your hand and then placed it over the gauze on his arm. Beneath it you could feel his wound throbbing. “You got me pretty good this time.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You stared at the gauze beneath your fingertips. He took your hand away from the gauze and turned to sit sideways, facing you on the windowsill. He placed your hand to his bare chest, over where you could feel his heart beating. You cocked an eyebrow as if to say that he knew exactly what he was doing. Being all shirtless and muscular and cute. Showing off. Because that’s what he was doing. He was showing off.

“I’m okay, Y/N. It’ll take a few weeks to heal but it’s healing beautifully. I’m more worried about you.”

“Of course you are.” You didn’t really want to talk about that either. Liu Kang scooted closer to you and let his legs hang over the side of the windowsill, moving until his shoulder touched against yours. Then he held his hand face up over your knee and lit it on fire to help warm you. It was sweet of him to try.

The silence was comfortable for a time. You sat and listened to the thunder as the storm grew ever closer.

He pushed some of your hair over your shoulder with his other hand. It was drying in rebellious waves that you normally would have tamed before they saw the light of day. That didn’t matter right now. You’d hurt him. The reality of your truth had come crashing back. You placed your hand just under the bandage on his arm. He offered you an understanding smile. You were grateful that he wasn’t teasing you about worrying over him. You could have kicked your past self for giving him a hard time about his worry.

You’d been so mixed up. As complicated as things were now, they didn’t feel as crazy as they had that day.

“It’s really okay.” He rested his hand over yours and leaned closer. “It didn’t rip anything important and it’s already healing. I had my stitches taken out this morning and it looks great. It’ll scar but even that will fade with time.” He brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. “I know that you feel guilty but you didn’t have any control over what happened in there that day.”

“I know. I had no control over anything.” You scoffed because that was part of the problem. When those things were happening to you, you literally had no control. It was like someone had pulled you out of your body and had taken it over. They had barely even allowed you to breathe. Maybe the connection to these artifacts had something to do with that. Maybe whoever had attached you to them had done so to manipulate you. “Your blood was all over me.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You’d had this recurring nightmare now of his blood splattering onto your face and him being wounded far worse than what it had truly been.

“I’ll admit that it was horrific.” His eyes still sparkled, even as you talked about something serious. “But mostly because I couldn’t get to you.” He let go of your hand and then reached over you to push the shirt he’d given you away from your shoulder. You let him and then much to your surprise he tugged your sleeve away from your shoulder too. You laughed and shrugged it back into place while swatting his hand away. “No?” He laughed. Your face was burning again.

“I don’t want you to see.” You pulled the shirt he’d given you back over your shoulder to hide it.

“It’s still cracked then? Raiden tried to fix it a few times but it didn’t work.”

“Chen mentioned that. She thinks it’ll go away on its own.” You shrugged but avoided his eyes.

“You don’t think so though.” He pushed your hair back again, something he seemed rather fond of. Honestly, you were fond of it too. You wanted to lay down and have him run his fingers through your hair forever.

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Liu. I have thought of every reason imaginable for all of this over the last few days. But the truth is I just don’t know.” That stress had been gone for a moment thanks to the rain and the haze that was Liu Kang, but it never stayed gone for long. You’d gotten better at handling it in the last few days.

“I don’t know either, but I do know that we’re going to figure it out. One way or another, Y/N, we will figure this out.”

The fire burned in his palm and you sat there watching the storm in relative quiet. You knew that you would figure it out eventually. You believed him. But what would that matter if you couldn’t fix it? And quickly at that. If you continued to lose control, you were going to ask Raiden to isolate you from them. To keep them safe. You wouldn’t put anyone else at risk anymore even if it meant your life.

“I worried that you might have been avoiding me. It’s silly, right?” You couldn’t believe that you’d ever been worried about that especially with the way he’d held you out in the rain.

“Extremely silly, Y/N. I wanted to see you, but this week has been… difficult.” He frowned, a rare thing for Liu Kang. He usually radiated peaceful and calm energy which was impressive. You admired that about him. Even on his busiest days he had come to visit you in the middle of the night. It had to have been hard considering you hadn’t seen him in so long. “I’ve been busy. I won’t lie and say that my arm hasn’t been part of the problem. Amongst the duties I perform I was busy helping Raiden. I have barely slept. We’ve been neck deep in research all week. Anything to help you.” The fire in his hand suddenly raged and you were in awe of it before it calmed to a dull roar again.

“Then your friend, Chen, told me that she would let me know when you were awake. She did not. I found out from Kung Lao in passing. Every time I went to see you either you weren’t around, or I was called away.”

“Honestly, I’ve been pretty busy too.” You understood how he must have felt. He seemed as frustrated as you were that you hadn’t seen each other in days. “I’m surprised Chen didn’t tell you. I’ve spent most of my time in the infirmary, honestly.”

“How has that been?” He seemed nervous to ask you and you were honestly nervous to talk about it. It had become a touchy subject. Thinking about having a heart thing set you on edge. You were sure that it hadn’t been easy for Liu, either. Lao had treated you with kid gloves most of the week and he had never done that before. Even Chen hadn’t teased you.

“Difficult but I’ll be okay.” You weren’t sure what else to say about it. Liu seemed not to believe that was it. “It’s weird to talk about it. I feel outside myself when I do. I really will be okay though. Just… I’m supposed to take it easy for a little bit and that’s not so simple. And I’m not good at it, I’ll be honest. Chen keeps yelling at me for doing too much.” You pouted. He smiled.

“I imagine it’s hard. I wouldn’t be good at it either.” He wanted to say more. You could feel it. But he didn’t. Sometimes Liu Kang was both incredibly easy to read and terribly difficult to understand. “I assure you that all I wanted to do this week was to sit with you and figure things out.”

“It’s kind of a mess, really. The whole thing. Every bit of this. Huge mess.”

“Where do we even begin?” The way his face shifted into a smile was so damn charming.

“Good question. I honestly don’t know.” You held your hand up to silence him as he began. “Now is not the time to figure it out. Tonight? Liu, tonight’s perfect.” You felt your cheeks flush again. He had made it perfect. He extinguished the fire in his palm and picked up your hand. Your heart fluttered. You had no idea what any of it meant anymore but Liu Kang was sending your heart into a tizzy.

“You’re right. It’s perfect.”

You sat holding hands and you rested your head on his shoulder. You watched storm. He slipped his arm around you, hand resting on your waist. Thunder grumbled, growing ever louder. Lightning flashed before your eyes and the wind whipped rain at you.

“…maybe it’s time to take shelter.” He suggested.

“Probably. It was nice to watch for a bit though.” You leaned your head up and stretched your arms carefully. Your range of motion with your shoulder aching was pitiful. “Thank you for watching the storm with me. And for running around in the rain with me.”

“It was my pleasure, Y/N.” Liu Kang admired you again as you stepped away from the windowsill. You offered him his shirt and then stiffened up when he made no attempt to hide that he’d been admiring you. He stood, took the shirt, and then draped it over your shoulders again. Your cheeks burned. He was showing off. What a brat! What a handsome, incredibly attractive, muscular, brat with a perfect body he was. “You gave me a new appreciation for nature tonight, Y/N.”

“You already appreciated nature, Liu.”

“I don’t barefoot dance in the rain appreciate nature.”

“Oh, damn. My shoes.” You cursed under your breath and gestured to your bare feet. “They’re still out there.” Liu Kang laughed.

“Should we go get them?” Liu gestured down the hall and you weighed the pros and cons. You liked the shoes well enough, but did you really want to add another flight of stairs to your walk? You had made a lot of decisions revolving around how many stairs you had to climb since you’d woken up.

“Nah. I’ll find them after the storm. If they’re worthy, then they’ll survive. I have other shoes.” No more extra stairs, you decided. You had plenty of other shoes. Those had been ones that were nearly worn through anyway. You were sure they would be just fine in the hallway by the entrance.

“If you insist.” Together you walked through the temple and Liu nudged you when you slowly made your way up the next set of stairs. “If you need me to then I’m happy to carry you.” You had mocked him almost immediately afterward by repeating his words beneath your breath in a condescending voice.

“I’m fine.” You added in afterward. Liu laughed and let you lead him back toward your room. The hallway shook with thunder, and you stopped to watch things shake. It gave you a cheap thrill. He waited for you and then chuckled.

“I have never seen anyone so delighted by a thunderstorm.”

“I’ve always liked them. As a kid they scared me but I also… wanted to watch them and be in them. Is that weird?”

“No, it’s not. It’s lovely.” You turned the corner that would lead back to your room. You pushed open the door and then sat down on the edge of your bed in an exhausted huff. “Are you tired?” He leaned in the doorway and as lightning brightened your room for just a flash, you had to resist admiring the way the shadows fell over his body. That was not easy.

“I am. Exhausted, actually. But I’m not going to sleep. I want to enjoy the storm for a little longer.”

“Is it alright if I join you?”

“Of course.”

Liu Kang sat next to you on the edge of the bed. You sat and talked in hushed tones in the darkness of your room. Soon you’d turned to face each other, leaning close as if your conversation was a secret. He told you about his week. You did the same. It felt wonderful to sit there in the darkness of your room with the thunder as your background noise. Your time there felt stolen, as if the world had wanted to deny you of those precious few moments and you hadn’t allowed it, using the thunder as your cover.

Some time later he reached for the journal and the book he’d left behind as though he wanted to ask about studying. It felt like a lifetime had passed since you’d last done that with him. It almost seemed trivial in comparison to your life now. He set them both down in favor of the small purple flower that had been your charm from Kung Lao. He held it delicately and curiously.

“Where did you get this? I don’t recognize it.”

“I…umm… Kung Lao actually gave it to me.” You smiled, surprised by your nerves when talking about it. Liu Kang looked immediately skeptical. “It’s a thing from when we were kids.”

“Oh?”

“We were close. Before he went away, he gave me that flower and I gave him a kiss on the cheek. The next day I’d been told he’d passed away.”

“Oh.” His tone was a mixture of sadness and frustration.

“He brought me this one when he first came back. I’d kept the other one from when we were kids but…”

“The fire.”

“Yeah.” You looked to the journal that he’d rejected for the flower. “I was going to press it in our journal.”

“That’s a beautiful idea, Y/N.” He set the flower back down, treating it as preciously as you felt it truly was. He valued you and your opinions. He really considered your thoughts and feelings. Sometimes, you thought Liu Kang understood you better than you understood yourself. You’d never been treated so considerately by anyone. He pushed your hair back again and smiled fondly. “Y/N?”

“Yes, Liu?”

He pulled his hand back and seemed to struggle with his words. What was with his sudden hesitation? He had always spoken with such purpose that the hesitation kind of scared you. He turned his gaze and you thought he looked a little sad. You could only imagine what he was thinking about. There were a thousand reasons to give you that look. “It’s nothing important. It’s just so nice to see you, finally. Awake and okay.”

“Are you okay, Liu?”

“I will be. I’m much better now that I’ve seen you.”

“Can you stay?”

“I wish that I could. More than anything. I still have business before the night is through and again early in the morning.”

“You’re a busy man.”

“I wish I wasn’t. Most times it’s fine. But right now…”

“When can I see you again?”

“Tomorrow. I promise. I’ll find time for it, Y/N. Maybe we can even read together about what we might be dealing with? I have plenty to go through if you’re up for it.”

“I am so incredibly up for it. It’s supposed to storm for the next few days I think and the only other thing I’ve got planned is meeting with that artist to sketch that thing I keep seeing.”

“Tomorrow evening, then?”

“Tomorrow evening.” You smiled and Liu shifted on the edge of your bed and moistened his lower lip nervously.

“About… all of this.” He looked you over and then looked to the doorway. You tilted your head curiously. What did that mean? “After the springs. That morning… before that… honestly, the list is getting a little long…”

Oh.

Bold. Interesting.

“It’s okay Liu.” You felt suddenly nervous. Was this him trying to dismiss it? Why did you feel the need to brace yourself for heartache? “You don’t have to explain it.” Yes, he did! What were you saying? You stared at the floor and considered that maybe your self-esteem had kind of tanked in the last week. You didn’t want to burden him. You felt unworthy of him too. This was not the time or place for you to break down.

But if you were to die then you didn’t want to hurt any of them in the process.

Ugh, you needed Chen to smack you. Immediately.

“It was a moment. I get it.”

“…are you trying to make excuses for me, Y/N?” The corners of Liu Kang’s lips curled into a smirk. He tilted your chin upward with his forefinger. Your cheeks immediately burned and he urged you just a little bit closer, enough so that you stiffened up with nerves.

“I suppose that I am.”

“And what about right now? What excuses are you giving me?”

“Liu…” You laughed in disbelief.

“Y/N?”

You averted your gaze but smiled and bit your lower lip. Maybe you didn’t need Chen to smack you. Maybe that had worked out.

“You don’t have to make excuses for me. I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“Oh.” You were surprised. Again. Bold. The number of close calls now was too many and thinking about them made your stomach tight with tension. You hadn’t expected him to be so forward about them after having been so vague for so long. And he’d hesitated and pulled back a few times in Huangshan. You were confused to say the very least. Between that and Kung Lao sending you on that rollercoaster, you didn’t know what to think anymore. “Okay… and…?” You didn’t know what to say or what any of it meant. It was going to be a hard conversation and you had thought you were saying goodnight. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, catching against your flesh. Your lip snapped back as his thumb pulled away.

“Tomorrow.”

Your tongue felt like it was ten sizes too big to talk. You nodded.

“It’s late. I know that it won’t be a short conversation and I think we have a lot to say.” He pulled his hand back and bowed his head. Your brain flatlined. Why? Why would he even bring it up? Liu Kang was a tease! You hadn’t realized it at first but now you knew it was true. Well, then. This wasn’t fair. In fact, it was quite rude. Shirtless. Careful, intimate touches. Hushed whispered conversations. Stolen glances.

Liu. Kang. Was. A. Tease.

“Tomorrow then.” You managed to speak. Liu stood, gave your hand a squeeze and then walked out the door, leaving you alone. You laid back on the bed with a groan of annoyance. “What does anything mean anymore?” All you could smell was him with that damn shirt wrapped around you and that wasn’t helping! You grabbed your pillow and pulled it over your face and yelled into it.

Then you hugged the pillow to your chest and listened to the rain.

It was fine. You’d talk tomorrow. You couldn’t overthink it anymore. There were too many other things to overthink. Tomorrow you would talk about something though you had no idea what that really meant. For now, you had the thunder, and you were exhausted.

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 7:  Subversion

AN:  I’m gonna admit, I was half asleep writing the first half of this cause the fatigue hit me HARD once I got home.

Also, I forgot to put this up a few chapters ago, but this story IS on AO3.  The link is on the AOT Vampire Masterlist, but also right HERE.

I felt like I was missing something, but no matter how many times I looked at it, I couldn’t think of what it was...If it occurs to me, I’ll probably just find a way to work it into the next chapter, lol

Also if you want a good soundtrack for this series, honestly, all you gotta do is listen to the Forgotten Odes album by Eternal Eclipse, I always pull it up when I’m writing these XD

Characters:  Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader, Erwin

Pairing:  (Eventual)  Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings:  Language, Blood, Death, Dead Bodies, ummm...idk, Vampire Legends?  Is that a Warning?

Word Count:  5391

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

"I've been trying to catch her sneaking out for weeks, now, Erwin, but it's like she knows when I'm awake and watching for her.  I can never catch her when she's leaving, it's always when she comes back."

Levi paced slightly in front of Erwin’s desk out of agitation as he stressed why, after all this time, he still hadn't managed to follow her into the Underground and see what she was doing.

"Do you at least know when she usually sneaks out?  The time, or the days?" Erwin asked calmly.

"It's always when everyone's asleep...and it is fairly regular.  Every week, I think, though the exact day varies."

"If you can't follow her, then you'll need to get ahead of her. Get down there before her. You know the window of time when she'll be down there, and you know the Underground."

"But I have no idea what she's doing down there. It could be anything--and the Underground isn't a small place where I can wander around and /hope/ I run into her."

"Then narrow down your search based off your theories.  We considered she might have family down there, so you would be looking at residences, or asking around about a woman of her description.  And your theory of the worst she could be up to--"

"Murder or treason.  I know the places you'd go for that--more so than normal, anyway," Levi murmured, mind already conjuring the worst areas in the underground, the places where the Underground's worst elements like to stalk the streets, the areas of the highest risk, the worst gangs, the shadiest deals.

The residence search could take months--no one was going to want to talk to a soldier, a surfacer, even someone who had once been a part of the Underground.  Not to mention, they had no idea what Y/N Frazier looked like, or what name she was going under while she was hiding in the Underground--if she was, in fact, hiding in the Underground.

Besides, shouldn't he rule out the worst, first?

"I know where to start," Levi said decisively.  "It's still going to take some time, though, because she's still aware I'm watching her, and she's good at shaking tales and evasion.  Not to mention part of it is going to be based on luck--that I manage to go to the right place at the right time without knowing where she'll be."

"You're good at what you do, Levi.  You'll find a way."

So began the unpleasant ritual of Levi going down into the Underground every night of every other week, all in the name of hopefully, eventually, managing to find L/N.  All it would take was one glimpse, one time seeing her, and he could follow her, learning from the mistakes of last time to make sure that he didn’t lose her this time.

And he could finally find out what was happening below ground--what had been happening for years since she’d suddenly appeared on the surface.

While Levi had made a name for himself Underground, enough so that it became general knowledge not to test him, he hadn't gone around looking for the kind of trouble that would have brought him to the places he found himself in, now.  He’d always been aware of these dark holes in the Underground, and on a few unpleasant occasions had to make a trip to one of them.  The worst elements of the Underground were found in these holes--she shadiest deals, the scum of the earth, the darkest corners with the most blood and carnage seeped into and tainting the earth around them.

Levi’s every step in these places was careful and quiet, his guard always up, his hood always drawn to hide his face.

Even with the name he'd made down here, he was cautious to use it as a warning sign to keep danger at bay.  Not only did he want to avoid sticking out and alerting L/N to his presence if she was down here, but there were always going to be the idiots who wanted to challenge someone who'd made a notorious name for themselves like he had.  There might be more than normal who wanted to test him if they knew who he was, people who thought that he was a prime target because his name still stood, but his time above ground might have made him soft.

A terrible, foolish notion, really, since his time above ground and part of the Scouts had only made him more dangerous.

He'd been coming down here regularly since his talk with Erwin, scouting the area and looking for any signs of L/N, whatever they may be.  Not many people down here were the talking type, and those who were couldn't give him anything about any surfacer woman prowling the streets.  The only thing they could tell him was to not wander these more dangerous parts of the Underground alone because people who did tended to turn up dead or go missing.

That wasn't news to him. He was already well aware of the dangers of these parts of the Underground that had spawned chilling legends even for the people who saw the darkness of the Underground daily.  He knew what he was doing was dangerous, which made L/N's presence here all the more questionable if he did manage to see her.

Levi glared fiercely at a man who'd been giving him the target sizing look after glimpsed his clean surfacer clothes.  The man slunk back into the shadows and Levi's skin prickled, his senses on high alert for any kind of ambush someone might be tempted to spring on the man leaning against the wall at a four way intersection.  He was keeping his head down to keep his face well shielded, but his eyes were constantly flickering around to take in his surroundings, to watch every figure that passed or came down one of the alleys, tense and ready for a fight every time someone came close to him.

This search was slow work, but with no hint to L/N’s motivations for being down here besides the scent of blood on her cloak, it was the best option he had.

A familiar, dark robed figure flashed by the opposite end of the alley on his right, and Levi straightened, disbelief flashing through him.  Surely that hadn’t been…

Before he lost her in his disbelief, Levi moved quickly through the alley to at least get her within his sights, being mindful not to get too close, even though he needed to at least be able to confirm that it was her.

Sticking to the shadows, Levi peered around the corner of the alley, just enough so he could see the cloaked figure and watch them as they continued down the path at a fairly leisurely pace, as if they were strolling along the lakeside instead of through one of the most dangerous parts of the Underground.

He was fairly certain that was her cloak.  It was the right color, and a quick glance down revealed that yes, it was long enough to drag along the ground like hers did, but at the moment it was gathered and tucked into the waist to keep it from dragging through the filth, keeping it just above the ankles instead.

And those boots were dark brown, leather, suspiciously similar to the Scout’s uniform--even though he couldn’t see the rest from this angle, he was willing to bet they went up to the knee.  The height was right, the posture seemed militaristic--it was a hard thing to shake, especially when still in active duty and so soon after graduating from the cadets, to boot.  Levi held his breath, watching intently and hoping for something a bit more defining that could give him one more bit of evidence to convince him it was her, besides this gut feeling of his.

She took a turn, and while she kept her head down, hood hiding her face, he saw a flash of hair, and glimpsed the civilian clothes underneath--

Civilian clothes he knew were hers because of the day he’d gone through her stuff and saw what she had.  She didn’t have much, so it was easy to tell this was one of the four pairs she owned.

Not wanting to lose her like he had that first night, Levi hurried forward, keeping his steps as quiet as possible.  He had to give her more space then he was used to giving someone that he tailed--he hadn’t forgotten how during the expedition, she seemed to have immensely attuned senses, with how quickly and easily she could pick up on what no one else could see.  He still didn’t want to lose her because he fell too far behind, but he had to be careful--something kept tipping her off to his presence, and while he didn’t know what, he had to control everything he could and make it harder for her to notice his presence.  Distance was his friend, right now.

It was hard, trying to trail someone while having to put so much distance between them that she frequently turned out of sight, but he kept it up, heart pounding in anticipation as his mental map of the area tried to come up with where she was heading.  Right now, it just felt like she was aimlessly wandering, like there was no real direction to where she was going.  What the hell was she doing?

After several minutes of following her around like this, Levi started to grow impatient, wondering if she was aware he was following her and was just walking random places until he got bored and left.  If anything, it was more likely to make him confront her.

Except he needed to see what she was really doing down here, and if she was aware he was following her, that wasn’t going to happen.

Another shadowy figure entered their line, in front of Levi but behind L/N.  It was a man, staying far enough back that he clearly wasn’t walking with her--another tail.  Someone with more sinister intentions, too, Levi would guess, by the way he seemed to be stalking her.  With how far back Levi was, he hadn’t been noticed by this new party, but he was close enough that Levi was certain L/N had noticed them.

Except...she wasn’t trying to shake them.  She should have been able to do it with ease after she had lost Levi so easily that first night, but she didn’t do anything differently.  Her pace remained the same, unhurried and with no real direction, even as the intruder got gradually closer.

What the hell?

Was he wrong?  Was it someone she knew that she was meeting up with?  No, that looked like something else, Levi knew exactly what this was, he’d seen it enough times to recognize when someone was about to get jumped.

On the other hand...this was perfect for him.  Horrible as the initial thought might have been, if he tailed her tail, it put plenty of distance between himself and L/N, and as long as her tail didn’t lose her, even with her completely out of sight he wouldn’t lose track of her.  And if something went wrong, well, he was right here.

Levi shifted his cloak aside at the waist, turning slightly and waiting a few moments before he fired the cables into the nearest building, using it to get onto the roofs and nothing more.  The rest could be on foot, no more use of the gear.  ODM had a very distinct sound any soldier who had been around them as long as L/N had would recognize instantly, so he didn’t dare use it any more times until he’d found what he was looking for.  He didn’t know how keen those remarkable senses of hers were, if it was her hearing or her sight or hell, even her nose like Miche, that had allowed her to spot those Titans.  Because he didn’t know how, he couldn’t risk it.

Now with the advantage of a higher vantage point, Levi followed L/N’s tail from quite a distance, able to see him further and more comfortably from so high up, his footsteps still light and silent even though he was alone on these rooftops.

Being up here reminded him of several things he hadn’t fully realized when he’d lived down here, or that he’d learned to ignore or had forgotten in his time above ground.  How there was no wind down here, which was disconcerting after so long above ground with fresh air and cool breezes.  How dark it really was, even with the orange glow of firelight from homes, impacting his visibility and making it hard to pick out details from a distance.  And the stench--he’d been blocking it out, something he’d trained himself to do down here when he wasn’t in his own space that he could keep clean, but now that he was higher up and not in the thick of the shit, the air wasn’t quite as thick with it.

Slightly.  Just barely.

The man he was following sped up and took a sudden turn into a narrow alley, causing Levi to speed up his step as well, keeping an eye on the opposite end of the alley in case he exited the alley before Levi could reach it.  Crouched low so that he wouldn’t be spotted if someone happened to look up, Levi reached the edge of the building before the alley, his hand placed lightly on the dirt-covered edge as he peered over with care, trying to lean far enough he could see but where he couldn’t be seen, or at least would hardly be seen.  L/N’s tail hadn’t left the alley, so they should be--

Before the alley became visible, Levi realized there were no sounds coming from the alley--no sounds of a fight, no drip of blood, no talking, nothing.  If her tail had caught up to her, there should have been /something/ coming from the alley below.

A few seconds more, and he had visual confirmation that the alley was empty, even though he hadn’t seen anyone leave it from either end.

Levi kept himself calm, not allowing himself to even worry about losing sight of them--he didn’t have the time for that.  Clearly he’d been far enough behind that he’d missed something that had happened.  Maybe they had cut through the building opposite the one he was standing on.  There were no sounds coming from there, either--it was silent as the grave in this part of the city, unsettlingly enough.  But it let him know they weren’t simply hiding in one of the buildings beneath him.

He knew this area--he knew the Underground, had grown up here, walked these streets or at least mapped out in his mind the best and worst places for all kinds of situations.  He could figure out what had happened.  Whether she got the drop on her tail or her tail had successfully jumped her, if they weren’t here they would have gone somewhere discreet, somewhere private that was also nearby.  Not a residence, and anything that was dilapidated beyond even entry wouldn’t work.  What was the best spot for that criteria that was also nearby, close enough it could be quickly ducked into without anyone noticing?

Levi jumped over the edge of the building and dropped back down into the mud, knees bent to absorb the impact before he quickly shifted, navigating the streets quickly and with a purpose as he closed in on the building that came to mind.  He was still careful to be quiet and stealthy lest he spook L/N and lose his chance, but he was now running out of time--the longer they were out of sight, the greater the chance he would fail to see what was happening.  And he’d come so close, he couldn’t let the opportunity slip past him again.

Her being in trouble didn’t even cross his mind--he knew she could have shaken that tail if she wanted to, and she had beaten him in a sparring match.  Even if that tail jumped her, he doubted she would be the one in trouble.

*Reader’s POV*

The one thing you hated the most about coming to the Underground to hunt was the smell.  With how sensitive your senses were, it was absolutely horrid for you.  It had taken all of your focus and much of your time when you’d first come down here to learn how to block that foul smell out, though usually it involved handicapping your sense of smell altogether--except for with blood.  Blood always pierced through any mental block you’d constructed for yourself.

Still, you were down one sense when you came down here to hunt, refusing to breathe through your nose so you wouldn’t become nauseous, sickened by the stench in the air.

The only time that changed down here was when you fed--when the scent of blood filled your every breath with your teeth latched into your most recent kill, warm at first but growing gradually colder as you drained the life from them, a hand over their mouth to muffle any sound or screams until they could make them no more.

Of course you had known about the shady individual tailing you--you had wandered aimlessly in one of the worst parts of the Underground specifically so you could draw someone out, could lure in one of the many victimizers that lurked in these dark corners and turn the tables on them, making their chosen path of victimizing and terror a fatal one.  As soon as he entered the dark, isolated alley that you had turned into, you had grabbed him and dashed away with that inhuman speed of yours, pulling him into the nearest abandoned, unowned building where you immediately sank your teeth into him to satiate the hunger that had started to claw at you once again.

Hidden in the darkest corner of the abandoned building, the man had stopped moving beneath you, body turning cold, though from experience you knew he still had more blood to give.  You were going to take it all, so it would last you just a little while longer before you had to delve back into the Underground’s cesspool for a fresh kill to satiate the hunger again after it returned.

By now, this was normal for you.  You had been doing it for decades, and had long worked out your feelings over the moral implications of it all.  This was just your way of life, how you survived.  And it would continue to be for years and years to come.

One thing about scents down here--there was no wind to carry them away or towards you.  So when you picked up on someone’s scent, it usually meant they were close...very close.  Especially since you went out of your way to block scents down here unless you were in the middle of a feed, like right now.

As such, you stiffened when you caught the beginning traces of a familiar scent, one that was usually carried towards you on a breeze and let you know you were being watched.  Tea leaves, cleanliness or cleaning products, hints of mint that might have just been a figment of your own imagination because it was something you associated with a clean smell.

Levi.  And if you were catching his scent strongly enough for it to pierce through the blood you were feeding off, then he was dangerously close.

Immediately, you tried to gulp down every last drop you could, wanting to still finish so you wouldn’t have to come back down here so soon, even though your instincts were yelling at you to get out of here before he found you.  As a result of your suddenly rushed attempts to finish your meal, you made a bit more of a mess than you usually did.  Blood smeared across your face and dribbled down onto your shirt, some unfortunately falling to the ground below as your teeth tore into the man’s neck in an attempt to get this last bit to gush out.

You could hear him, he was just outside the building, you couldn’t wait any longer, you’d already waited too long.

How much had he seen?  How long had he been onto you?  How had he found you?

You could worry about that when you were safely back at the Scout’s headquarters and in the process of cleaning up any evidence you’d ever been to the Underground, right now, you had to leave.

Now you didn’t even have time to try and hide the body.

Teeth unlatching from the man’s neck, hood pulled low over your head to hide all of your features, you finally bolted, heading for the opposite side as you heard the door open, worried that you still had been too late, that he might have seen your hasty exit, or at least a flash of your cloak disappearing around the corner of the open doorway.

There was no chance to take it back now.  The best you could do was damage control and dig in your heels.  He might have seen your cloak, maybe, but as far as you knew, he had no way of knowing it was you.  No definitive way, anyway.  He hadn’t seen your face, hadn’t seen any defining features.  As far as you were aware, he’d only seen your cloak.  You still had a chance.  Especially if you cleaned your clothes fast enough and thoroughly enough there wasn’t a trace of blood or the Underground on them.

Heart pounding as you attempted to keep yourself calm so you could act rationally and not tip your hand and give yourself away by panicking, you raced back to the surface to start disposing of evidence in the safety of your quarters.

*Levi’s POV*

Levi tried to be quick when he opened the door, intending to catch L/N in the middle of whatever was happening in here and then act accordingly.  As far as he was aware, he’d acted fast enough and quietly enough he should have gotten the drop on her, even with that apparent sixth sense of hers that had allowed her to avoid him thus far.  The door swung open, and he saw a blur of motion--a blur he tried to write off as simply his eyes still adjusting to the scene at first--and the flash of a dark cloak disappearing around the corner.

Levi’s eyes widened at the realization that blur or at least the cloak was L/N fleeing from the scene, a ‘Tch!’ escaping him as he dashed across the abandoned building to try and make it out the other side before she could disappear again, hand on the edge of the doorway as he slid out into the alley on the other side.

Nothing.

He rushed to the mouth, hoping that maybe she had just turned out of sight, that he wasn’t about to lose her again like he had the first time he’d followed her.

Again, nothing.  Not even the sound of retreating footsteps.  She was just...gone, like the first time.

“Shit!”

Swearing loudly to himself, with the sound surprisingly disconcerting when it was thrown out into the silent streets, Levi turned back to the abandoned building, the only thing he had now that L/N had fled.

She had fled, which meant that this time she might have left something behind for him to find in her haste to leave.  People got sloppy when they were in a rush, and he was going to take full advantage of it.

Giving one last frustrated look down the deserted street, Levi doubled back to the abandoned building she had been inside, standing in the middle of the room as his eyes did a quick roam over his surroundings, looking for anything out of place, anything out of the ordinary.

Over in a dark corner, there was a mass, some kind of shape that looked distorted and unlike any kind of furniture or item found in an abandoned building like this.  It wasn't moving, but Levi still approached with caution, the dark shape slowly taking form as Levi approached, gradually becoming clearer as Levi silently came closer.

It was a body.  The tail he'd been following, from the looks of it, though Levi still didn't have a cause of death.  The body was distorted and lying unnaturally, head bent at an odd angle--not broken, just left in an odd position--and it was lying face down, as if it had been dropped in a rush.

He had interrupted something.  The question now was what had he interrupted.  His gaze had already darkened with the realization she'd left a body behind, but whether this had been intentional or self-defense remained to be seen.  The motive, her intentions, were largely going to affect how he reacted.

Levi turned the body over with his foot and froze, staring at the man’s throat.  It was ripped out, like an animal had sunk its teeth all the way in but had been startled into tearing away before it was ready, bringing half the man’s throat with it.  Yet, despite the gruesome sight, there were only a few drops of blood on the ground beneath the body, a couple light smears around the wound itself.  When Levi crouched down to touch the body, it was ice cold against his fingers.  Algor mortis shouldn’t have even started yet, the man had hardly been dead for a few moments, but there was next to no blood despite his manner of death, the body lacked all warmth--the warmth shouldn’t have drained from him for at least a half hour.

There should have been blood all over this place--should have still been some blood in him draining to the parts of his body lying on the ground.  And yet…

A memory was making its way unbidden to the front of his mind, whispering sinister, impossible, dark thoughts into his mind as Levi stared at the dead man's throat.  A memory of a legend Kenny once tried to scare him with, one he had dismissed as nonsense and scoffed at the impossible tale.

A tale about an immortal creature that plagued the Underground as long as there had been an Underground, choosing the miserable place because of its darkness and isolation from the sun, and its plethora of people that no one would even care if someone went missing every now and then.  An undead demon with glowing red eyes, the last thing a man saw before it feasted on his blood and drained the life out of him, leaving his empty body lying in the street with his throat ripped open.

Kenny had told it to him once to scare him, to keep him from getting too cocky and thinking he was untouchable.  And Levi had called him out on it, called it the bullshit he'd been so sure that it was.  There was no such thing as demons or bloodsucking monsters.  There were real monsters in the world, but not of this dark, fantastical variety.

And Kenny had taught him the lesson that had led him here.  And made him a bit more wary of the darker corners of the world.

"Maybe not demons...or maybe there are. There's Titans above ground, right?  Why wouldn't we have our own brand of monster down here?"

Kenny scratched his chin.  "Whether you believe in the demon part or not, there's always a little truth to every legend.  At the least, there's probably a killer somewhere down here with a signature like that who caused the stories."

Levi looked dubiously at Kenny. "Yeah?  How do I know they're not just legends about your murders."

"Because, Runt.  I slit throats, I don't rip 'em out."

Levi felt his blood run cold, chilling him to the core.

What he’d witnessed...she had not been a target, she had never been someone’s prey; she had been the hunter luring in an unsuspecting victim.

How long had she been doing this?  A couple years at least, going off how long she'd been sneaking out to the Underground, but it probably went on before that, before she joined the military, before she even showed up on the surface.  When he'd caught the smell of blood on her cloak he hadn't expected this to be the source.

“I...conduct blood rituals to achieve perfection.”

That deadpan delivery at the table in the mess hall--had she been secretly mocking them?  Or, more accurately, secretly mocking him, the one trying to figure out what she was hiding?

Was she...even human?

It was insane, but so was the thought of the empty grave before he’d opened that coffin.  It was madness, but it fit, it made things that had seemed alien suddenly belong in this greater picture.  Where else would all this blood have gone, especially with how quickly she had to leave because of his interruption?  How else would she have these senses that told her when Levi was near--that allowed her to know when she was being followed when it should have been impossible, that allowed her to see him in detail in the shadows from a distance yet still draw a perfect portrait, and had made her aware of the Titans before anyone else?  That strength and ease in all of her physical requirements as a soldier had to have come from somewhere, like Levi’s, but this hadn’t been what he was thinking.

And then there was the undead thing, the immortal thing, from the story he’d heard as a child.

No, no that was pushing it too far.  That she might not be human was a hard enough pill to swallow, even when he had his own superhuman abilities and lived in a world of Titans.  He was not a superstitious person, and this was a hard thought to even entertain, let alone to take seriously.  Even when he was staring at a corpse that strongly suggested the truth of the tale.

Even if it would explain how Y/N Frazier crawled out of her grave when it was supposed to be humanly impossible.  Even though it smoothed away the question of how Y/N Frazier and Y/N L/N were connected by suggesting they were the same person.

No matter what the full truth was, he was at a point where he had to confront her either way, for everyone’s safety.  He might be the only one who could match her, physically, and even then he’d have to be extra careful about his approach, because she could still overpower him if he wasn’t careful.  At the very least, she was a murderer, a serial killer who hadn’t stopped even after joining the Scouts and was still regularly killing, and somewhere he used to live, no less.  He had hated living down here, but part of him still took that personally.

At the worst, though, she was a monster of shadowy legend.  One that preyed on humankind, like the Titans.  A true enemy of mankind that it seemed almost no one was aware of.  Now he knew, and he had to do something about it.

But first, the confrontation.  And he better make sure he had her cornered and that he was ready for a fight.  It was likely she would lash out, and he needed to be prepared for a fight for survival.  He needed to be ready to handle the situation as soon as he had the truth, because whether she was a murderer or monster only affected how the fight would go and the severity of the stakes.  If she was a legitimate monster as well as a murderer did not affect the fact that a fight was inevitable--it just decided how deadly it would actually be.

And he needed a contingency in case the worst happened, so the truth wouldn’t die with him.

The Scouts needed to know what lurked within their ranks.  Erwin needed to know.  It was all a front--something deadly was masquerading as one of them, and it needed to be stopped before it could do irreversible damage.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier@whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea​

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

[bittybattybunny]

Good day it’s a new au time cuz BRAIN ROT BRRRRR

Anyhow it’s a “MCU” but not kinda au

big thanks to @doodleimprovement for dealing with my word vomit over this au lol iamsosorry

Ru is a tech company CEO giant with his daughter Harriet (his business partner is his former wife who wants nothing to do with their kid) and adopted the recently orphaned Kaya Solaria after she helped stop a mugger in the alley way (well. Spider King did but her mask got hit off by a bullet and Ru saw it was just a kid and stepped in)

Working on running a company, raising his 6 year old as well as a super powered 15 year old (Kaya actually has Spiderman’s powers, King came after the fact and is tied to how she lost her dad) he ends up getting injured on a business trip after he was taken captive. Upon return he decides to try and ‘be a hero’ as a means to get his eldest to stop sneaking out (she has guilt over her dad dying so tries to be a hero to make up for it despite Ru asking her to wait until she’s 18 at least)  he figures if he can get the world (or at least their city) safer, she can rest at ease (cuz he’s a good dad and just wants her to... be a kid. not try to be more than a kid) he uses the Alias “Thorned Snatcher” (as his last name is Thatcher)

Vanessa however wants his new tech as she thinks its the key to a new weapons future and nearly kills Ru when she rips the reactor from his chest. Thankfully he had his old model still and his secretary (Eclipse) and daughters get home in time to help him. he knows if he doesn’t stop Vanessa things will be even worse for his family.

During their fight, he’s knocked down and nearly stops there to tired, but hears his daughters crying for him, specifically for the first time since he adopted her Kaya calls him “Dad”. He knows he needs to keep to his goal and if Vanessa is left free he failed a father.

He manages to get up with the Help of Eclipse who joined the fight, having stalled Vanessa hand to hand despite Vanessa’s weapon suit (sus eclipse is sus) and he’s able to fight again and put an end to her.

he gives Kaya a stipulation when they are waiting on the cops, he’ll let her fight crime, but only when he’s with her.

and thats the first part of this au eve (second bit deals with miss secretary past. A woman who is able to give Kaya a sore hand with a high five despite kaya can stop some extensive things (likepeterstoppingbucky’sfist) and went toy to toy with Vanessa with just a hub cap. Hrm. Cap. Cap. Captain...?)

I actually wrote up when Ru met Kaya. It’s a lil fast pace but I did it on purpose.

“If ya just hand ova ya wallet and yer valuables, you and yers can get out of here with a scar on your little faces.”

Arulius sighed as he heard the mugger and moved an arm to push his 6 year old behind his back. He gently gestured to his watch with a finger, to which she tapped a button on to call their bodyguard, Florence. 

“I’m afraid I really don’t have time for this. Harriet has a dance recit--” Arulius clicked his tongue when the gun was pressed up into his neck.

“I’m bein generous, man.” he pressed it further, pulling the hammer back.

“That’s not very polite! Did your dad never tell you not to stick your shooter in people’s faces?” Came a laughing voice. The mugger gasped when black webbing stuck to his back and pulled him to the ground. 

Standing perpendicular to the wall was the dark-suited figure, glowing white eyes and jagged smile laughing.

“D-Dad! Dad, it’s Spider King!” Harriet giggled as she hung onto her dad’s leg. He scowled and went to step back.

“YA FREAK!” The mugger tried to fight against the restraints, the primed gun going off in the hero’s direction.

There was a hiss as the masked figure fell off the wall with a solid thud. Arulius scooped Harriet up, only stopping when he saw the vigilante's face, the bullet having knocked her mask off.

“A… A kid?” he grimaced. Why was a CHILD attacking a mugger? Before he could open his mouth to speak there was a hissing.

“N-No King don’t! I’m fine! I’m fine!” the teenager gasped as the black claws she had tore off in slimy chunks, lunging at the mugger. She winced with the crunch as his hands were removed and she paled some, shaking.

Arulius shielded his daughter’s eyes.

“BOSS!” The red head came barreling down the alley, a bit too late when Spider King tried to grab her mask. 

“Stop.” Arulius ordered her. She looked up with frightened gold eyes. The tentacles retracting up her sleeves, “wait a moment.”

“Oh gross!” Florence shuddered as she moved to get the mugger up, the man an incoherent mess, “you do this?” she asked the teenager whose temple was bleeding.

She said nothing and gripped her arms as she tried to process. She blinked when tiny hands went to her cheeks.

“BIG SIS IS SO COOL!” Harriet giggled. Her father was talking on his phone.

“I-I’m.. No…” she looked away ashamed, “Y-You… I’m… I just… wanted to help…” she began to sniffle, “I-I didn’t mean for king to…”

“He hurt Sol. Bite back.” The snake-like creature peeked from the girl’s collar.

“I-I told you no biting h---” she placed her hands over her mouth and scurried to her feet, violently vomiting into a trash can. She panted some. Tensing when a hand rubbed her back gently.

“Yes. yes. He shot his own hands off in his confusion. Must be high.” Arulius was standing near her now as he spoke on the phone, “My guard was able to restrain him. Yes. yes I’m fine as is my daughter and the teen he was attacking. Mmhm.”

She flinched when he scowled and tilted her head up, “scratch that, looks like the teen got a bit hurt, but we’ll treat her. Yes. yes. I’ll leave my guard here.” hanging up he shifted his phone to his pocket before licking his thumb and wiping the blood away. She winced.

“O-Ow don’t! That stings!” she whined as tears pooled in her eyes.

King hissed and went to bite him but stopped when the girl sniffled. He nuzzled her cheek as Arulius let go. 

“Come on.” he pointed towards the black car that pulled around, “let’s go and then I’m calling your parents.”

She gripped her arms and stood firm, “T-Thanks for calling the police b-but you better f-forget you saw me, Mr. Thatcher.” she chuckled nervously, brushing black hair from her face.

“You know who I am?”

“O-Of course I do! Who wouldn’t?! Thatcher tech is my dream job!” she gasped, “I-I was a-at your summer program--” she covered her mouth.

He clicked his tongue, “the one for highschoolers?” he asked. She whined and moved to run but bumped into Florence who huffed.

“Give me your parent’s number.” Arulius sighed.

“I… I don’t…” she chewed her lip. She was quiet.

“Where do you live at least? I’ll drop you off.” he shook his head.

“PARK!” King chirped.

“Hush!” She fretted.

“The park? You live in the park?” Harriet asked as she stood near the teenager’s legs, “That’s not fun!”

“W-well i-I couldn’t stay at m-my apartment…” The teen frowned. She winced when she was pushed towards the car. Whining and trying to deflect she found herself sitting in the back. Harriet crawled in and grinned as Arulius sat in the passenger’s seat.

“No parents. No house. Now I get why a damn kid is running at muggers.” he rubbed his temples with a groan, “name?”

She was quiet.

“I’m not calling you ‘spider king’ name.” he asked a bit firmer.

“S-Solaria…” she mumbled, “K-Kaya Solaria…” she wiped the tears with the back of her gloves, “A-Are you going to turn me in?? I-I don’t mean any harm Mr. Thatcher! I-I promise! I-I normally do fine!!!”

“How old are you?” He opened the window and put a cigarette in his mouth and leaned out as he lit it up. “Under 18 if you were at the company summer program.”

“I… I turned 15 last month…” she admitted ashamed. 

“You’re a few years older than me!” Harriet beamed, “I’m 6!” she grinned.

“I’m more like a decade older…” Kaya chuckled nervously. She looked at the tech company CEO. he had pulled a laptop out and made another annoyed click with his tongue. She winced.

“Your father…. Gabriel Solaria?” he leaned back, “the journalist?”

She nodded.

“Damn shame. He was a decent guy. His stories were interesting.” he flicked through the news reports as Florence got in the driver’s seat.

“Done with the cops?” he asked, “stop by the courthouse.”

“Huh?” she started the engine, “courthouse.”

“P-Please! D-Don’t turn me in! I-I’ll b---”

“I need to grab some adoption papers.” he gave a smirk and looked back at the crying teen, “Since it seems Harriet's getting an older sister. But no more crime fighting.” he shifted to cross his arms and put his feet on the dash. “15… fucking 15. You know what I did at 15??”

“Built a rocket engine that was able to lift a treadmill?” she stated with a small smile.

He blinked and snickered, “okay, yes but I was also just. Going to sch--- do you go to school?”

“I-I’ve been attending school still.” she scratched her cheek, “Um… Subcon Public high…” she sank back in the seat. She jumped when Harriet sat on her and protectively put her arms around the younger girl. She shifted her seat belt around her as well when Florence pulled into traffic.

“Well you’ll have to transfer. Is that an issue?”

She shook her head, “U-Um mr. Thatcher… what… are you planning?” she asked softly.

“Adopting a lost child, and making sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.” he snickered, “Any school you want to attend?”

“I… i you can’t! Y-You just met me!” she gasped in shock, “I-I’m a freak! I’m an accident! I-I have an alien!”

“Meeee” king stated proudly with a cackle.

“Yes but you know what I see? I see a scared kid who’s trying a little too hard.” he scoffed as she stared, “and we’re going to grab adoption papers, then I’m ordering pizza. Any allergies?”

“EAT EVERYTHING,” King laughed.

“Perfect then.” Arulius huffed, “and you can call me Arulius. Since I guess calling me dad off the bat would be weird.” he began to type on his laptop.

She sat there in confusion. She’d simply gone to help someone. And now her idol was adopting her. Her. a mutant spider freak with a parasitic alien.

She reached and pinched her cheek and whined.

Arulius caught this in the rear view and began to cackle loudly.

“Sorry kiddo. You’re awake.”

“B-But why are you just adopting me and not turning me into a lab or something?!” she asked fearfully.

“Dad’s nicer than he looks~!” Harriet giggled, “Can you shoot webs?”

“Mmhm.” Kaya shifted her gloves off and removed the cuff under her sleeve, “its um. An artificial webbing actually, unless King is the one shooting it. He has a gooey webbing.” 

Arulius peeked and reached a hand back. She frowned before handing the cuff to him.

He turned it over in his hands with an impressed whistle, “you construct this?”

She nodded, “I-I like engineering and I figured it’d be useful when king’s tired, i-it’s bio degradable too! But really strong!”

“That's how you swing around right?” Harriet asked with sparkling eyes, “What else can you do?!”

“Well I can walk on walls.” Kaya sighed, “I’m pretty strong too? I can lift a car if I focus. I can move fast?” she frowned, “I’ve never really… tho-- STOP THE CAR!” She gasped.

Florence slammed on the brakes as the truck at the intersection sped by.

“There’s um that. Normally I can semi tell something can happen.” Kaya frowned, “s-sorry for yelling.”

“No, by all means!” Florence laughed, “So. Spider King huh?”

“W-well it’s cuz I’m spider-esque and then King.” she pet the alien who chirped.

“What’s his deal?” Arulius asked but got silence, “alright another day then.” 

Florence parked the car as Arulius got out.

“Wait here,” he stated and Kaya just gave a nod. He threw her web shooter back and she caught it with wide eyes, “You’re grounded from crime fighting until you’re 18, but I won’t take your web shooters.”

“Ah… okay…?” she blinked as he shut the door and headed up. She leaned into the seat and just sat there. Very confused.

“Can I call you big sis? Or kai??” Harriet asked the older girl.

“Oh… um… I guess you can call me whatever….”

“Kaya’s a cute name.” Florence chuckled, “Crime fighting though. What a hobby.”

“I… I just wanted to help people…” she admitted softly, “I have these abilities so I thought I needed to…”

“Can you swing with me when we get home? We have a big tree in the yard!” Harriet giggled, “can you sign my daily bugle of you??”

“I’d rather not…” Kaya chuckled.

“Sleepy.” King huffed.

“Exhausted,” Kaya admitted as she shut her eyes. She barely registered she’d fallen asleep.

After a bit Arulius returned with the needed paperwork. He blinked and smiled as he looked in the back seat. The superhero passed out, his daughter sleeping against her.

Kaya’s arm rested around Harriet, and even King was putting his head on the girl.

“Well, not the oddest thing I’ve ever dealt with.” he spoke softly as Florence started the car once more. He flipped through the papers, “seems people had no idea she was on her own. Thought her uncle had her but turns out he lied and was just taking the financial support.” he grumbled, “there’s some messy hearings but I think I can just. Pay it off.” he looked back and gave a smile, “hey free babysitter.” he snickered.

------

He tapped his foot as he crossed his arms with a huff.

“Kaya.”

She looked away ashamed.

“What did I say?”

“No webbing in the house unless you’re watching.” she mumbled.

“And then why is the house covered in webs?” he asked with a twitch of his eyebrow.

“I-I was just playing with Hattie!” she defended. She huffed and he smirked. She seemed a bit more settled in if she was copping an attitude, “I-I’ll clean it up! I promise Mr. Thatcher!”

“Arulius. I told you, use my first name. You’re my kid now you know.” he sighed and headed inside.

She stepped aside and rubbed her neck, looking at the floor, “I-I can’t just… call you your name… that’s rude…”

“You’re my kid now, it’s weirder if you keep calling me “Mr. Thatcher” I’m not asking you to call me dad but.” he chuckled.

“THOT!” king sang loudly as the teen’s face turned red.

“I-I didn’t teach him that! I swear!”

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader | purge!au ⚬ word count: 15,728. ⚬ warnings: weapons, death, drugs, blood. ⚬ genres: ANGST, spicy/nsfw scenes, fluff to mend the heart, romance, action, and whatever else you could fathom lol.

✧✎ synopsis: the annual purge was a system of purification, alleviation, a supposedly psychological device in which people found a moment to unleash their indignation. you never purged until you met mingyu, a boy whose warmth was just as palpable as his darkness. you begin to fall for him, which means involvement with the evil he’s managed to attract.

✧✎ a/n: longer note at the end of the fic! sorry i’ve kept this in the vault for AGES bc i couldn’t figure out how to write in the ‘twist’ or whatever the fuck. you’ll know when you get there. anyways this is for @mihgyu (sorry it freakin took so long!) and @solgyus​ as they are my Resident Mingyu Stans. i also changed the title bc i thought... yknow... it fits better!

You had always wondered what life was like for the previous generation, the generation who grew up without acquaintance to the annual purge. It was an alien concept if any concept at all, one so foreign and inexplicably bizarre that the cogs in your mind would start jamming against each other in a struggle of comprehension. The education system had groomed its pupils into believing it was the only plausible way to recover from an economic collapse, feeding into gullible and malleable minds the possibility of clearing rage through bloodshed.

When your parents disappeared at dawn, leaving nothing behind but the sound of a lock clicking shut and a note advising you to stay away from the windows and doors, it could be assumed they’d return at morning with crimson-stained clothing, crusted lacerations, and heavy weaponry sealed taunt to their hands; or maybe they wouldn’t return at all. Yet you were taught to believe that was okay. At least if you didn’t have your family, you had your friends. 

At least if you didn’t have your family, you had Mingyu. 

As much as you despised admitting to yourself, Mingyu meant to you what the moon meant to the tides, what the sun meant to the meadows. He kept you in perpetual motion, allowed you room to recuperate and blossom into a much stronger version of yourself after your father never came home. When he lost his job your family lost its momentum. The last you ever saw of the man was his backside as he slipped through the door frame, a chortling in the evening air, a black revolver clasped to his hand.

He seemed to disappear alongside your mother’s sanity. She isolated herself and pushed everyone away, even you, the only person capable of nurturing her. In school you’d learned that the purge was supposed to bring purification, it was responsible for cleansing humans of the everyday stresses that slowly crushed them flat. Purging allowed them happiness; a twelve hour capsule to unleash what the law prohibited three-hundred-sixty-four days a year.

Yet when you looked to your mother, you didn’t see any traces of happiness or fulfillment, just an empty shell that sat with sunken eyes in her rocking chair, mumbling to herself like a toddler. Before you even had time to find closure after your father’s disappearance, your mother suffered a similar fate, abducted through the windowsill by a maniac who sought vengeance for the crimes committed beneath your father’s hand. He was a stingy businessman who often scammed to make his money, therefore collecting a myriad of enemies.

Notably, you didn’t start purging until you met Mingyu. The first time you’d ever used a gun with malicious intent was when you ran into the man responsible for abducting your mother. The kick-back from the trigger had you stumbling across the watered asphalt, the silver slick rain that caved down from the clouds washing away the minuscule spatters of his blood that blew onto your face. As he slumped down against the red bricks, the animation draining slowly from his eyes, he spluttered,

“S-She’s dead, she payed for your father’s incompetence, his greed.”

In complete lifelessness you lowered the weapon, not realizing how close the  distant gunfire sounded until Mingyu had to drag you away by the wrist. He murmured his condolences to you when the air was tinged with less bloodshed, carefully nuzzling you into his chest when the reality of what you’d just done had come spiraling forth, leaving a slap so brutal across your face the burn seemed more realistic than the raindrops hitting your skin.

You felt disgusting, enclosed in a body that had been consumed by the purest form of hatred, and there was nothing you could do to evade the feeling of that ugly gun pressed into your hand. But within that same moment, hot tears pumping onto Mingyu’s shirt, you understood a certain satiation that tempted so many people to do what you had just done.

“We can’t stay here,” You felt the vibrations from his deep voice against your cheek, coolness stinging the heated flesh of your face when you lifted your head to meet his gentle eyes.

“Gotta keep moving, alright? It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Mingyu’s composure was definitely an admirable trait. But then again, he’d been exposed to this environment long before you ever questioned purging. At that point you had felt completely numb, allowing him to wind you through the crevices and shadowy tunnels building the foundation of the city, your vision blurred by a mixture of salt and rain water. You felt safe with Mingyu, though it hadn’t always been like that. Before your friendship you were an outsider to the boy, harbouring nothing but a tiny crush toward him and his handsome face.

In fact the first time you’d ever spoken to Mingyu, it was after his fight with Wen Junhui, one of the most infamous, cynical purgers you prayed to never meet.

Two Years Ago –

“I’ll kill you if you come near her again!”

“Is that supposed to scare me?!”

You’d never seen a fist fight in real life before, and you were positive that was a good thing. A large crowd steadfastly increased around two tall, venom-eyed boys caught up in their alcohol. They were spitting profanities, threats, and whatever else their clouded minds could formulate within the gap of the other’s speech. The party had been rather lackluster before that point anyways, so like the congregation swarming to the centre of the room, you etched into the crowd and managed to stand just inside the inner circle.

“Shit – sorry,” you squeaked as you were suddenly shoved into the girl beside you. Your face became hollow like a crater on the moon when you saw that it was Mingyu’s girlfriend.

“What am I supposed to do?” She mumbled whilst biting her nails, “I didn’t know how to stop it.”

“Stop the fight?”

She continued babbling, “Junhui kept coming on to me and Mingyu saw. They’re both competitive, boggle-brained idiots when they’re drunk. I don’t know what to do.”

Her name was Yang Yeeun, born and raised by parents maintaining such wealth that rumours began circulating their bloodstream was crushed rubies. You could see her pearl earrings flashing behind the straight black locks framing her small face. You don’t think she ever took them off. Her father manufactured security systems for the purge; however, the most recent release had been proven to bore many defects and flaws. She didn’t care, as long as she got a slice of the wealth.

In the beginning, Yeeun and Mingyu’s relationship came as a slap to the wrist. How could two people reaping such difference in personality become so close? Yeeun was frank and staid, with cold, cindered eyes that never displayed an eclipse of emotion. Her complexion was just as pale as the pearls she wore and her heart swam darkly.

Mingyu was her polar opposite. 

Sure he was intimidatingly tall, but any menace he constructed with his height was easily derailed through his bubbly nature. He was what you call, “a gentle giant,” and anyone who contacted him for more than a brief period understood this. The warmth was in his honey-brown gaze, the velvet of his tanned skin, the sepia tones that were shaggy in his hair. When he spoke you could feel the gravel roll beneath your feet, and when he said your name heat would flood your face like steam throughout a hot spring. 

Again, Mingyu and Yeeun made a bizarre couple, yet he loved her so deeply you swore the dark coverings in her heart had peeled back a little.

You kept in mind, a little.

“They’re fighting over you?” You questioned carefully, trying not to exaggerate your words so that it seemed utterly impossible for her to be worth fighting over.

“Yes,” Yeeun gritted, her eyes darting around the crowd, strangers pressing into the circle, allured by drunken shouting, “can’t they wait until purge before they start ripping into each other?”

Wouldn’t it be best if they didn’t rip into each other at all?

“Like you said, they’re drunk and stupid,” you opted for the latter choosing.

Mingyu’s mellow stare had been licked over by enraged flames, the remaining liquor still pumping through his system and warming his blood until it sizzled. His fists were balled tightly, fangs peeking past the taunt snarl on his lips. Junhui appeared calmer, though the bar of composure was quite low to begin with. The unkempt ends of his midnight black hair were shaking, his sharp nose crinkled, and his stare so impossibly intense that you were nauseated a vein on his neck might become engorged and pop. 

As interesting as it would be for you to witness your first fist fight, you knew it wasn’t a wise idea for these two to start swinging at each other.

You set a hand on Yeeun’s shoulder, “maybe you should stop thi—,”

Suddenly, her palms encased her mouth as the last few words of toxicity were spat between Mingyu and Junhui, the crowd erupting in brazen cheering as the two lunged for one another in a flash of blurred colour. Your jaw was permanently unhinged, your body set in stone, attention completely spellbound under the boys who were viciously entangled. The world seemed to spin at a snail’s pace whilst the fight flickered faster than lightning. At one point Mingyu had Junhui shoved up against the wall, one hand nearly ripping through the boy’s black-collared shirt as he tore his free fist back and swiftly launched it forward. The hard ridges of Mingyu’s knuckles connected with Junhui’s eye, his head smashed back into the drywall so that an indentation remained.

“G-Get the fuck off me, Mingyu!”

“You fucking asked for this, dumbass!”

In another fuzzy whirlwind of movement, Junhui managed to push Mingyu backward and onto the snack table, bowls and bottled alcohol spilling across the floor with jade shards of glass scattering in flurries. Junhui drew his fist into Mingyu’s face, the collision splintering against Mingyu’s brow bone. You could see the speckles of blood flying off Junhui’s hand as he curled his fingers into another ball, preparing to throw once more. Panic encompassed you from every angle; it drowned you above your head until the crowd’s bellowing became a muffled choir to your ears. 

You could hardly breathe as your sights shifted to Yeeun, the girl with her hands still clasped to her mouth, doing absolutely nothing.

Was that a smirk hidden behind her hands?

She really did have a dark heart. By the looks of it no one was going to intervene. You were most likely the soberest person in attendance. Even if it downright petrified you, letting those two get their hands so bloodied it would look like they doused their arms in red paint wasn’t a viable option.

“Hey!” You barked, slowly etching your way into the clearing, “what the fuck is wrong with you two?! Get off each other!”

Mingyu and Junhui were still a violent mass now buckled to the floor, anger and alcohol swelling through their bodies like a drug. You felt your knees wobble, as though a tight fist had an ironclad grip on your entrails and was squelching them around slowly. Junhui had Mingyu pressed to the floor, and raised in his arm was a sparkling shard belonging to a smashed bottle. You didn’t know what it was, but something inside compelled you to react. In a mere instant you were ripping the shard from Junhui’s hand and screaming at the top of your lungs, the crowd’s cheering turned to hushed whispers.

“Enough!”

Your chest was heaving, fingers grasping the glass piece tightly enough that thin lines of red began dripping down your hand. Junhui and Mingyu had peeled themselves apart, the deep marring of hatred etched so profoundly into their eyes you’d never be able to forget it. Yeeun suddenly blossomed with emotion after standing on the outskirts smirking into her palm, the girl bounding toward Mingyu and snaking her arms around his neck like she’d been downright sobbing with worry the whole time.

“C’mon, Gyu,” she gritted, “we’re leaving.”

Thanks for the help.

You were tempted to call.

The fight between Mingyu and Junhui might have stopped, but the party continued to thrive. You were wandering through the upstairs hallway as the wooden floorboards jolted beneath you, driven by incessant music that became a furthering echo. Fresh blood had yet to stop streaming down the grooves between your knuckles, pooling from the lacerations of that jagged, glass shard and wetting your warm skin. You continued seeking for a bathroom, any room really that might contain a first aid kit, or at least some water and tissues that would help to clean your hand.

Each room was either occupied or locked. A defeated sigh ghosted from your lips as you stood at the end of the hall, weakly knocking your healthy hand against the last door. Scarlet drops were creating a puddle on the wood whilst you waited, until the brass handle jiggled and you were stepping back in shock that someone had actually acknowledged your presence.

Of course, the person doing the acknowledging had to be Yeeun.

“Oh! It’s… you.” She murmured. Behind her slim frame you could see Mingyu sitting on the sink, holding a cloth to his eyebrow.

“It’s me,” you replied, desperately wanting to skip the small talk and use the first aid kit. Didn’t she say she was leaving?

Yeeun finally noticed the red pathways on your hand and nodded, “I see you need to get yourself bandaged up.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You hummed, trying not to sound impatient but utterly failing.

“Well… I’ll be right back then. Just so you know there’s no gauze left.”

“That’s okay, I don’t think I’ll need an—,”

“I’m going to look for some!” Yeeun called as she squeezed her way past you and began trudging down the corridor, “be back soon!”

Mingyu tossed you a lopsided smile when you entered the bathroom. You kicked the door shut with your foot to drown as much noise as possible. Though the small barrier didn’t do too much in regards to sound, it certainly made the bathroom feel one-hundred times smaller. Or maybe it was solely Mingyu and his gargantuan height. Perhaps it wasn’t any of those factors and you were just feeling nervous to be enclosed in a private space with him. Either way, your face turned into magma and you felt like swallowing sand. Without saying a word you turned on the sink and let the cold water stream between your fingers.

“Hey.” He began.

Oh no. If you initiate conversation with me there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’m going to fall in love with you.

“Thanks for intervening. You kinda saved my life there.”

You scoffed whilst scrubbing the dry scarlet from your wrist, “I think you could have taken him.”

Mingyu took the wet cloth from his brow and folded it over before reapplying pressure to his own wound, sighing deeply. “Fuck this. I hate getting drunk.”

Fastening your teeth into your lower lip, you remained silent and continued swirling around the bloodied skin until the red currents seemed to all drain away, down the white porcelain. You winced a little because there was indeed a stinging sensation, but it was better than allowing the cuts to get infected. Mingyu’s curious gaze was watching the scene intently, and with his body propped right next to the sink, there was really no easy way to avoid your feelings other than to talk with him.

“How’s your injury?”

“I don’t know, how is it?” He peeled the damp cloth from his brow bone. You could see that directly in the centre the skin had spilt, a little ways above the brow and a little beneath it, bright pink flesh gleaming from between the dark hairs and tanned skin. It would definitely leave a scar.

“I’m no doctor, but you might need stitches.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu grimaced. “That fucking sucks.”

You scoffed. “That’s funny. The same kid who socked Junhui in his eye is afraid of getting a few itty bitty baby stitches.”

Mingyu pouted, his thick brows then slanting downward which made him wince petulantly. You couldn’t suppress your chuckling, turning off the sink with a coy smile playing along your mouth.

“I’m joking.”

“I know.” Mingyu said. “I’m sure everyone’s gonna start saying he’ll rake my eyes out at purge.”

You laughed at that too, though deep down you both knew it wasn’t anything flowery to laugh about. Junhui was the definition of nefarious. Similar to Yeeun his family danced in riches, their security systems were top-notch, and his access to weaponry and blueprints of the city could be in his hands within minutes. People worshiped the ground he walked on, but it wasn’t because they liked him. It was only sensible to play nice to the person capable of taking your life away in a single breath. 

Of course, Junhui’s reputation made him a prime target, yet despite all the people who secretly wanted him dead, it was difficult to even lay a scathe on his amber skin.

In your eyes it was better to avoid the boy altogether. That way you never gave him any reason to seek out your oblivious-self during the annual purge. Mingyu had crossed that line to the fullest extent. He laid more than an innocent scathe on Junhui; the boy had given him an entire fist to his pretty, supposedly untouchable face. Feeling your heartbeat thump widely, you quickly willed to change the subject.

“Do you see any cloths? Or Kleenex? Anything?”

Mingyu frowned. “Sorry, nothing.”

You shook your arm out over the sink to shed some water droplets, yet the blood still continued to bead. Mingyu looked sympathetic. He presumed it was his fault you were even injured in the first place.

“Yeeun’s getting gauze.”

“I think I’ll be okay—,”

“Wait!” Mingyu suddenly piped. “This might be super awkward but—,” the boy’s tongue peaked out between his pink lips as he gripped the end of his white t-shirt and gave it a tear, pulling off a strip of fabric.

Your cheeks began crackling and your palms felt oddly clammy, “M-Mingyu, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the boy said, “this shirt’s old and busted anyways. It’s better than walking home, dripping blood everywhere.”

You smiled softly and stared at the floor.

“Here! I’ll even wrap it for you.” He purred, gently reaching for your arm and twining the white material like a roll of bandages around your hand. 

Forgetting about his own spilt brow that began clotting with blood, Mingyu finished his dexterous work with a tender glance that made your stomach flip, his chocolate bangs falling endearingly before his eyes. After shaking the fringe away, he gave you a thumbs-up.

“Now you look like you just got into a fight.”

“Right, because I’m the first person everyone suspects to start a fight. You hit the nail on the head with that one.”

Mingyu chuckled at the heavy sarcasm, blinking his pretty lashes at you with such warmth you keened to melt like an ice cream cone. You supposed after that moment, Mingyu might not be nearly as brutal as his drunken, love-induced mind influenced him to be. For a fleeting moment you even doubted that this was the same boy with his own kill-list. His eyes glimmered like diamonds catching a shaft of light.

“That’s something only time can tell.” He purred

Two Years Ago –

When Mingyu and Yeeun broke up, it was like the universe took its cue to make everything in life feel unreal. If their romance was nothing more than a mirage, then had romance ever existed in the first place? At least to you, it routinely appeared as though Yeeun’s heart had never been within the same realm as Mingyu’s. There was always an island of separation between them, one little ploy that prevented the couple from truly clicking like puzzle pieces. That ploy was exigent in the form of onyx hair, a sultry voice, and bottomless eyes.

In other words the obstacle was Junhui. Yeeun started dating him no less than a month after the break-up.

Mingyu, he was crushed; taking the point of devastation and expanding it an extra nine yards. In contrast with Yeeun’s heart, his was always wide open, warmer than a summer fire and more embracing than sun rays. You swore she would be the girl he took to meet his mother, the girl whose finger he delicately touched to slide upon a silver loop. A part of you crumbled each time you saw them together, before the break-up, and even more so after the party.

Remembering how his rough fingertips skimmed the wet (and surely burning) skin of your hand as he wrapped the cloth around it did something peculiar to your mind. Reminiscing on the soft timbre of his chuckles made your head spin, and replaying the manner in which his eyes twinkled as he gazed at you through his thick bangs brought forth fluttering in your stomach. It was what you were daydreaming about even after their infamous break-up, fingers clacking against the keys on your laptop whilst you finished an essay in the library. To your dismay, the thoughts were scattered by conversation at the table behind you.

“Think Junhui is gonna gut Mingyu at purge?”

“Probably not, Mingyu would be expecting it. And it’s not like he’s hopeless. Did you hear about how he stabbed someone to death in the tunnel last year?”

“Yeah. But Junhui’s clique practically owns the purge. They’ll tear your fuckin’ house down if they can find it.”

“…True. Those two seriously have some bad fucking blood. Do you remember the rumours about how Junhui sho— ”

Unable to listen any longer without this horrendous churning against the walls of your stomach, you shoved your laptop into its carrying case, swung it over your shoulder and began shuffling between the book shelves. Your stare traced the floor whilst a pummeling sensation thundered into your ribcage. Mingyu didn’t seem like the type to kill, though you didn’t know him personally, and perhaps he had matters of vengeance that crooned for redemption. This tiny hope inside you flickered, prayed that Mingyu was unlike Junhui, the kind that tortured for torture’s sake, the kind that shoved a pistol beneath your jaw because you looked at them funny.

Suddenly, you collided with someone. Blinking upward, you gazed at the body you’d walked into, Mingyu, who was in the midst of pulling out a book.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized.

You hadn’t seen him for a while, but he looked healthy, a bit tired perhaps, but mostly healthy. Dressed in comfy clothing, a grey hood drawn with his earbuds plugged in, he popped one of the speakers out and lent a small smile. His eyes were slightly veiled by his earthy bangs, the coarse fronds wavy in front of his forehead. His scent was a concoction of something tropic mixed with cannabis, and when he spoke his voice was lower than usual.

“Were you leaving?” Mingyu asked.

Yes.

“No, no. I wanted to finish my essay somewhere that wasn’t... back there.”

“Oh,” he sighed, “seemed like you were in a rush.”

“I was just thinking.”

Mingyu stuck the book back into its gap and smiled, “about?”

You sniffled. “What?”

“What were you thinking about?”

Obviously you were not going to admit that you just overheard conversation about Mingyu being gutted under Junhui’s hand, about Mingyu supposedly cramming a knife through whoever’s chest during last year’s purge, about Mingyu’s history of participation in the annual mayhem that plagued the country like a sickness each year. Now that the purge was on your mind, a dark worry skulked in the shadowy crevices of your brain, yet it seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it arrived when Mingyu stared at you so gently.

“How much I hate essays.”

He nodded. “That must be it.”

Without thinking, you blurted, “what happened with your eyebrow? Did you get a scar?”

He simply carded back the bangs covering his forehead and poked at the nick with his finger. It would have been courteous to receive a warning that he was going to reveal his forehead. He had no clue how powerful a mechanism it truly was, how badly you wanted to kiss that tiny scar after seeing the slit through his brow. Swallowing the flushed heat that arose in your throat, you grinned with a closed lip.

“Well, it makes you look like a badass if that’s any comfort.”

Mingyu let his hair flop back into place and laughed quietly. “What’s up with your hand? That cut looked so nasty.”

Looking down at your fingers, you probed the faint lines of where the glass had sliced your skin, engraved almost, like a stone carving.

“Kinda. It doesn’t look as cool as your eyebrow slit though. And you’re way less busted than Jun. His eye is still purple.”

For a brief ellipse you simply embraced the opportunity of being alone with Mingyu. That some higher deity had taken pity on your life barren with romance and granted you this precious exchange to add to your vault of daydreams. The more his hoarse voice lapped at your ears, surely roughened yet equally soothing, you felt your chest create a burrow for him, a gap that only he could fill. It baffled you, that Yeeun could break his heart. But it didn’t surprise you. She was built from titanium, similar to Junhui, and together they were hawks that would make prey of everyone.

“Trust me,” Mingyu said, “it wouldn’t make me feel any better if we were matching.” 

His jaw clenched, and his stare slipped to the floor for a transient moment. A nearly imperceptible breeze tickled up the back of your neck, causing you to rub at the fine hairs as Mingyu’s usual aura slowly dissipated into a much darker nuance. You gulped, attempting to laugh something of comfort back into the air.

“There’s a lot we could match in, like... bracelets! Or a necklace! Or one of those couple t-shirts... Not that we’re a couple,” stuttering helplessly, you felt electricity tingle in your cheeks, “I was just thinking about matching stuff and that popped into my hea—”

“It’s fine.” Mingyu responded, the storm clouds cast in his gaze finally ebbing away. He smiled, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“You’re pretty cute y’know? I don’t think I’d mind.”

1 year ago –

You never spoke commonly to Mingyu about the idea of purging until you were thrust into the political nightmare on a whim, a stupid, stupid, moonstruck whim.  The few times the morbid topic arose seriously, neither of you had enlightening stories to exchange. A bitter knot lodged itself into your throat the night you reiterated to Mingyu about the tragedies concerning your parents; the disappearance of your father and the abduction of your mother, a tearful lining glossy in your eyes.

You’d never seen Mingyu express such grief when he returned the storytelling.

He moved out from his parent’s house when he was eighteen years old, his best friend, Minghao, making the journey alongside him. Faintly, you remembered Minghao, more or so from your high school days when you shared the same last period art class. He had always been rather subdue, never really speaking with anyone apart from Mingyu, though there had was a handful of times where you caught him and another boy, Wonwoo, skipping class together. Apparently Wonwoo didn’t have a very good home life. He’d supposedly been forced into purging since middle school, and his psyche never quite recovered. 

You never even saw Wonwoo smile apart from when he was with Minghao. 

However, one day that boy from your art class just disappeared, and the rumours hadn’t stopped swirling since. It was a common fact that Minghao never purged. He didn’t have any bad blood with anyone either.

Not that you were aware of.

In the beginning stages of Mingyu’s purging he used to commonly venture with a group of three friends. Wonwoo happened to be one of them, plus another named Jihoon (who you could recall dawdling around in the background of the party) though Mingyu never named the third. He described it as being pure, inexplicable dread. They were constantly finding themselves in gruesome situations that forced their true colours from camouflage, how they stole burning glimpses of the other when the night came to an end and blood was caked to their clothing. The purge had tainted all of them, some more than others, whether it be with drug addiction, eternal madness, or an unhealthy fascination to mend so seamlessly with the evil that they personified it.

However, genuine fear pitted in the core of your stomach when Mingyus’ fists had clenched in his lap, his features distracted by a look of anguish as he sucked in a breath and spoke in an unsettling, distant tone.

“It was four of us in my car. I was driving, Wonwoo and Jihoon were in the backseat, and he... he took up the passenger seat. It was different... How he reacted to the purge... The rest of us were still somewhat fearful of it but he almost thrived in all the destruction. We were even talking about going purging without him the next year, but...

Mingyu had to clear his throat.

“I guess Minghao was waiting for me to come back to the house. He probably wasn’t even waiting on me specifically, he had this little crush on one of my friends, Wonwoo. They were always messing around together. Minghao probably got excited when he heard us, so he came outside, onto the grass... But then I heard the pop of the gun out the open window... I just... I don’t fucking know if he thought Minghao was a maniac or... If he was on drugs or something... But, God... He just —“

You didn’t allow him to say anymore when his words became warped, when his voice cracked and his eyes split like a sheet of broken glass. Minghao didn’t just disappear - he was killed, and Mingyu knew who was responsible. Instead of pressing him for details, you reached for his hand, rubbed your thumb along his knuckles, made sure he knew that you were there for him. 

And yet you had been thrust into the setting of the same picture during your first purge, the first time you had ever experienced what it was like to harm someone, turning their existence into an irreparable patch in the universe.

This is your emergency broadcast system, announcing the commencement of the annual purge.

At the siren, all crime, including murder, will be legal for twelve hours.

All emergency services will be suspended.

Your government thanks you for your participation.

“This is going to be your entire fault if I die tonight, Mingyu! I just want you to know that!”

“Relax. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

It was nothing short of chaotic. Pitch blackness shrouded the skylight like a heavy cloth, the distant rattle of gunfire and screams sitting heavy in the air as you raced down the street. The horrendous acts were most commonly centred to the city’s heart, where prime businesses, rich corporations, and notorious killers congregated to create havoc. Still, that didn’t make you any less petrified, your nails sinking into Mingyu’s hand like dog’s teeth. Fights were slowly beginning to litter the sidewalk, a store going up in orange flame and hissing embers now glinting behind you.

“I knew that we weren’t going to make it back to your place on time. I knew it was stupid that we even questioned going out on purge in the first place - Ah!”

You shrieked at an unprecedented decibel as two men came tumbling out of the alleyway only meters away from your feet, your body slamming into Mingyu’s backside when he cemented himself to a halt. The men payed no notice to you, entirely engulfed in their own world of vengeance through bloodied fists and messy punches.

“This way.” Mingyu’s words were like a breeze in the midst of a hurricane.

You hardly registered he’d even said anything until his grip lurched you forward and you were stumbling to the opposite side of the street. Then, your jogging pace skyrocketed into running, the breaths just squeezing from between your lips and the pain in your chest aching so potently you felt like vomiting. Your stamina was breaking faster than glass. You couldn’t afford to run any longer.

“M-Mingyu, can we please stop?”

The boy didn’t seem to have a choice as your fingers began unclasping from his hand, your body collapsing on the concrete staircase belonging to the city bell tower. Mingyu anxiously carded his hair back, his eyes moving hyperactively down the street only to be greeted with more and more violence consuming his vision. Gunshots seemed to thunder from every direction, splintered shouts joining hymn. Large trucks blared down the black pavement with ominous members hunched in the open cap, holding weaponry and wearing masks of painted wood.

The boy squatted down, his palm firmly encasing your cheek and keeping your head up.

“I’ll give you a minute. But then we have to keep going. It’s too dangerous to stay in one spot.”

You stared into Mingyu’s face with a tiresome expression, the bronzed and gleaming hue of his skin reflecting the fire that crackled in the distance. His touch became sterner as he moved in closer, his eyes no less than a few inches from your own.

“Trust me, I know you’re exhausted. We’re gonna be at my place soon though, okay? You just gotta hold tight for a little longer.” He pressed his forehead against yours, and met your gaze head on. “I’m going to keep you safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

An intruding shout echoed a little too closely down the street, engendering you to choke on your own heartbeat. Mingyu growled in irritancy, pivoting his head and glaring at the stranger who stepped from an alleyway. Rather than looking frightened (you were on the verge of sobbing bullets), Mingyu’s forehead crinkled angrily, the tiny scar that cut through his brow beginning to slant.

“Stay put.” Mingyu commanded you.

There was a colder lining to his tone that you’d never heard before, malevolent and icy. As soon as his touch fell from your cheek, you knew his hands were about to tend to a much different matter. Your mind implored for you to look away, yet your heart waned for the exact opposite. The man was scraggly and a bit stockier than Mingyu, a mischievous intent welling in his movement as he seemed to dance back and forth like a hummingbird. He wore a smooth, white mask and a heavy brown coat that bore many unidentified stains, a long, curved blade in his hand.

“You’re just a kid,” the man taunted, “it’s always the younger crowd that get so riled about the concept of murder, think they’re all that, but they drop faster than flies when it comes down to it.”

Mingyu didn’t waver. “You should keep talking if you want that knife poking through the opposite side of your throat.”

You inhaled stiltedly. This was definitely not the same Mingyu who smiled with the power of a burning star, his mannerisms filling your chest with laughter and his golden eyes bathing your face with heat. You thought back to the library, the conversation that drawled behind you. This was the Mingyu they were talking about. You had a feeling that the innocent projections in your head were close to changing.

The man chuckled and pointed his knife, shaking it at Mingyu, “you’ve got the same cockiness as that rich China boy’s little clique. I’m sure you’ve heard about them. They’ll be flocking to the streets any minute now.”

Mingyu spoke gutturally in response, the disgust and repulsion so thick in his voice you almost couldn’t recognize it. “Don’t you fucking dare compare me to him.”

The man chuckled darkly, “hit a nerve, did I?”

You weren’t sure what happened next, mainly because it all happened so fast, a series of swift movements (on Mingyu’s behalf) that resulted in your pulse fizzling like hot oil. Ultimately you were going to be exposed to murder one way or another, though watching it reflect in the glassy curve of your own eyes left behind a deep scarring. The man lurched at Mingyu with his hefty blade slashing for the chest, most likely assuming that because of Mingyu’s height he would be quite slow and lack agility.

However, that was severely not the case, to the man’s dismay more than anyone else’s. Within the span of sixty measly seconds Mingyu had tripped him onto his back, snatched the blade from his grip and wedged the knife directly into the man’s windpipe, exactly as he said he would do.

At that point you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. Mingyu’s breathing was level as he rose from the man’s waist, a burgundy pool of blood bubbling at the neck where the blade had punctured skin. Mingyu lifted his jacket, pulled the knife out, and attached the weapon through his belt. He spent an extra few moments patting the fresh corpse down until he uncovered a small revolver hidden in the inside pocket on the man’s coat. When Mingyu handed you the revolver in means of protection, you didn’t realize you were shivering.

“Now,” he pronounced, “we’re going home.”

And at the time you believed him. 

Until thirty minutes stretched into an hour, an hour into two hours, three hours, four hours. The chaos that was the purge had encompassed you both. This supposedly psychological device controlled you like a ventriloquist. Violence sneered at every turn and eventually an unspoken conclusion emerged; that it was easier to join chaos than it was to run from it. Later that night everything came full circle. 

You were the one pointing the weapon, aiming the silver barrel into the face of the man who had broken in your home and abducted your mother last year, on account of stupid, petty crimes your father had committed in the past. Seconds before touching the trigger, all you could picture was his face swathed in moonlight, the horror that clawed in your stomach when you ran down from your room that night to see him yanking her out the smashed window. 

And when you felt the release of the bullet, it became emboldened that it truly was a small, cruel world.

Present –

Squeezing one eye shut, you held the black gun with both hands and aimed the muzzle toward a tree stump that acted as your target, a cheek pressed into the taunt muscle of your shoulder as you inhaled a steadying breath. Delicate winds blew across the meadow, each strand of grass rippling in a hypnotic wave. The horizon lay beyond the tree trunk, a bleeding yellow sun submerging quietly behind the endless terrain, casting a honeyed glow to speckle like rain droplets upon your face.

There was not a single sound apart from the grassy fronds tickling against each other, your concentration solidifying to a mar in the tree bark. Then, your finger ghosted over the trigger, a sharp burst echoing into the pale yellow sky and causing a distant congregation of birds to take flight. The bullet struck the wood, right where you had envisioned the lead entering.

“Look at you,” the tension keyed into your bones drifted away, exiting your body in a shallow exhale once Mingyu’s prideful tone filled the spaces between the winds, “your shot may be even better than mine now.”

After lowering the firearm to face the earth and switching the safety on, a demure smile danced across your lips. Mingyu’s arms were strong and looping carefully around your waist, hauling you back into the broad expanse of his chest. He buried his face into the smooth plane where your shoulder met your neck, his soft locks feathering along your jaw. You giggled the second his lips kissed your shoulder, evening sunlight spilling across the meadow and encouraging heat to caress your skin.

“The student becomes the teacher,” you purred, “I even remembered to turn the safety on this time.”

“You’re damn right you remembered to turn the safety on,” the boy quipped sternly, his palms gliding downward to grip your hips and spin you around, “you almost took my kneecap off the last time.”

Furrowing your brows, you pursed your lip at him petulantly, “can we stop talking about that? It was a mistake you big idiot.”

“I know, I know,” Mingyu cooed, “a very, very, very dangerous mistake.”

You rolled your eyes as he unwound the black firearm from your fingers. He walked toward his jacket that sat on the blanket you’d strewn across the grass, making sure to place it back inside the pocket.

“You still need some more practice, but I think for today we can call it quits. How does that sound?”

The boy then fell back onto the blanket with his head titled to the side, his eyes staring up at you winsomely. With the sun flaring behind you, the vibrant streaks set the grass aflame, making it appear as though Mingyu was sitting in the centre of a fire. His skin twinkled like golden silk and his canines peaked between his lips in a smirk. Shrugging your shoulders impetuously, you stumbled toward the blanket and fell into the boy’s lap, squirming against his broad body until he became pinned beneath your weight. As though he were a glass vase, you gingerly swept your finger along his scarred brow.

“Sounds fine,” you hummed, “since I kinda wanna makeout with you right now.”

“I love how straightforward you are, baby.” Mingyu confessed with his intoxicated gaze drinking in your image, already imploring for a taste of the strawberry balm that defined the pretty arches of your mouth.

Unable to quell how your body yearned for him, you gave your eyes a toss and pressed your lips to his. Mingyu craned his neck forward in immediate desperation to feel more pressure against his mouth; however, he soon gave up his craning and allowed his elbows to give out beneath him. His hands snuck beneath your shirt, to which he placed soft squeezes against your ribcage, fingertips skimming lower and lower until they were running along the back hem of your shorts. You continued to straddle his waist as the kiss drawled further, rhythmically slow and sweet.

You didn’t think it was humanly possible for your chest to be so encompassed with fondness, yet here you were, brushing your digits through Mingyu’s tresses, pressing your forehead to his, encasing his lower lip between your teeth to experimentally tug until the flesh swelled and glistened in garnet. You weren’t really sure how you started dating, it just sort of happened. It was perhaps an escalation of lingering touches, infatuated glances, and hot, fever dreams that kept you both slamming awake at blue midnight.

After your first purge together, the connection between you strengthened, like welding two pieces of molten iron into one. It was an experience that ruined you, stripped you of any innocent fragments still clinging to your bone, and once the night came to an end and you were sitting on Mingyu’s bed with blood spatters sopped into your cloths, you burst into tears. Strangely, you weren’t sobbing out of pain, mortification, you were sobbing because you could. It was the only accurate way to depict the weird melancholic, hopeless lump in your throat.

You squeaked as Mingyu grew impatient of your slow kisses. His want was increasing and he couldn’t bear to hear the quiet mewls that kept slipping from your mouth. His strength effortlessly allowed him to flip you on your back, his mass keeping you slack against the blanket as his lips dotted your jaw, your ear’s cusp, until he craved to taste more of the natural salt on your skin and his kisses ventured further down your throat.

Mingyu began suckling at a sensitive patch near your pulse. The warmth of his tongue combined with his teeth, and you felt him scrape his canines sharply against your skin. It wasn’t until the boy nudged his thigh between your legs that your fingers lurched into his scalp, tugging the earth fronds tightly. You couldn’t help but buck up against him, summoning a growl from his chest that only made him press his fangs into the soft skin with more force; not enough to actually break the petal-thin flesh, but enough to leave deep, possessive indentations. The ecstasy drumming in your veins was insatiable.

And yet, you knew it couldn’t progress.

With a fragile whine you placed your hands against Mingyu’s chest and gave the giant a small push, his mouth regretfully detaching from the beautiful marks he was intent on leaving all over your body. He spoke coarsely, breathlessly, when his rosy face surfaced from your neck, though the glaze in his eyes had quickly softened out of fear he’d made you uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong? I wasn’t being too rough, was I?” He gathered your hand in his and kissed along your knuckles apologetically.

“No, not at all,” You mumbled, still dealing with the blare of crimson running through your veins, “I just… Don’t think we should, do it, in a field.”

The hollow grooves in Mingyu’s features immediately flushed with solace, a large sigh escaping from his chest as he allowed his head to tumble into your shoulder.

“Thank God, I thought I hurt you or something,” he heaved in relief.

Your heart sang wildly, knowing that he truly was a boy gentler than butterfly wings and softer than cotton. It was difficult to imagine him as the same boy who ruthlessly shoved a blade through a man’s windpipe, allowing thick trails of blood to slide from the open wound and create morbid puddles on the hard cement. The evening air seemed to turn cooler, the wind’s peaceful lilting now picking up with more vigor. Mingyu collapsed at your side, one of his long legs still tossed over your waist as you stroked his hair.

With the sun halfway behind the horizon, you gulped whilst watching the yellow sky fade into watered, fierce shades of orange.

“Mingyu?” You hummed.

“Yeah?” His warm breath scattered in a ticklish manner against your neck.

“What’s going to happen with you and Junhui?”

Mingyu stiffened instantly. Nibbling on your lower lip, you watched with sincere eyes as the boy lifted into a sitting position. You joined him, closely monitoring the contours of his face that had surely twisted at the mention of the sinister purger. There was no room to blame Mingyu for harbouring such distaste toward the boy. Junhui did swoop in and steal his ex-girlfriend fresh after the breakup and run purge night like he invented the device himself.

Still, you wondered if there could be something more. If there could be a more profound explanation for why the air was so stale between them.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Mingyu said flatly, “are you scared?”

Caught off guard by his sudden questioning, you stumbled over your syllables for a painful second, his gaze turning back to wrack you curiously.

“N-No, I was- I just- I was only wondering.”

“He’s too obsessed with himself to care about me. Don’t worry, okay? Nothing is going to happen, baby.” Mingyu said in a much lighter tone, his signature, canine smile quirking along his lips. 

Despite his calm protrusions, you could sense that something murky was swimming behind the curve in his eyes. The boy leaned backward and planted his lips against your forehead, leaving a small, adoring kiss. Shaking away the ominous tension that came with simply speaking the purger’s name, you grasped for Mingyu’s hand and smiled.

“Let’s head back into town.”

He set his jacket as well as the blanket in the backseat and climbed to sit at the wheel.

“Don’t forget about that, y’know,” you reminded him whilst gesturing to his jacket, “it’s not like there’s a gun in there or something.”

“A gun with the safety on.” He replied sheepishly, to which you simply huffed and stared out the window.

You stopped Mingyu when you were no less than a block away from your new apartment building, the tires crunching to a halt beside the common coffee shop.

“I’ll get out here,” you told him, “I’ll be fine to walk back to the complex. I just really want caffeine.”

Mingyu leaned over and pushed the car door open for you, his palm tenderly grazing your thigh as he found your lips. He gave you a quick goodbye kiss, and you felt flowers bloom between the bones of your ribcage.

“Text me when you get home, alright?” He reminded when you slid from the passenger seat.

Scurrying into the coffee shop, you already had an idea of what drink you’d like to get. As you stood off to the side waiting for an employee to call out your coffee, you fell into a slight trance, your eyes casting mistily across the cozy atmosphere whilst the sky began darkening beyond the clean window panes. You thought about Mingyu, how laughable it was that you were dating, and yet you knew you loved him like ink loves to kiss paper.

Hm, you chuckled inwardly, that girl sitting in that booth by the window, she looks like Yeeun, and that guy beside her really resembles Junhui. That’s funny.

That’s funny.

That’s… funny…

“Order 24, half decaf, two sugars one cream.”

To your inexplicable terror, heart-twisting dread, and every other repulsive emotion that could have cloaked you in that moment of realization, the couple sitting at the window booth was indeed Junhui and Yeeun. The employee called out your order again, this time a little louder, drawing customers to look left and right with puzzled glances. The nefarious couple was sitting across from two familiar faces, one with jet black hair brushed away from his forehead, the other disquieting with how vacant his face appeared, a grey beanie pulling back the fronds from his porcelain features, and a lollipop shoved between his lips.

It took you a minute, but you eventually recognized the lollipop boy as Wonwoo. He looked insanely different compared to your outdated, high school memories, where he was just a scrawny, fox-faced boy with the straightest black bangs you’d ever seen, always running around next to Minghao, getting pink in the face when the younger so much as smiled at him. It was evident that purging had completely hardened his face, his aura, to which he developed an almost sinister light. Whoever he was now, he definitely wasn’t the same boy. Jihoon sat next to him, impatiently spinning a stir stick between his fingers.

You didn’t know why you weren’t moving. Mingyu’s words rang in your head.

Are you scared?

Craving nothing more than for a sinkhole to form beneath your feet and swallow you whole, you did the sole thing your body permitted you to do; walk sternly out the coffee shop and pretend you never ordered a single thing.

God - I hope they didn’t see me. That would be the last thing I want, for Junhui and his purging buddies to have anything to do with me.

Jihoon and Wonwoo with Junhui was odd. Had they always been friends? Junhui never attended your high school either, rather he used to be a student at a prestigious private school you couldn’t ever dream of getting into.

Your apartment was close. You could distinguish its height amongst the low-cut buildings lining the sidewalk. If you just walked a little faster, you could be up the cement staircase, swinging open the glass doorway, and be safe within the front lobby. Titling your head back you quickly ogled at the sky. It wasn’t completely black yet, but there were distant tinges of dark, oily colours that pressed down like a heavy thumbprint amongst the grey. The wind picked up behind you, slamming into your backside in menacing howls.

Finally, you’d reached the cement steps—

But it was too late.

His tone was smoother than a crystal ball, lower than baritone, and incredibly seasoned at feigning genuineness. Hearing your name cascade from his mouth that was deceivingly shaped as a heart made your breath flatten. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but it was too late to pretend you never heard his chant. Unwillingly, your body pivoted like a stone statue, your foot taking that one victorious step back as it left the staircase.

“You walk so fast, you could have been sprinting.”

“Exercise is good.” You nearly wheezed.

For the first time, you realized just how tall Junhui was, his body appearing as a shadowy mass as the wind blew the tails of his trench coat. His brows were slanted, lips quirked, his irises so rounded you could hardly see the white bits. He was handsome in the way that some people found graveyards entrancing. It was the eeriness that allured you.

“You left your coffee.” He stated.

“I realized I had somewhere to be.” You tried to hold his gaze, but it was impossible to evade the nervous eye fluttering.

“As anyone would, it’s getting late.”

The wind whistled between you, dark clouds swirling above your head as though the sky were a witch’s cauldron.

“I think it might rain,” you said meekly, “are you looking to ask me something?”

Junhui took a step forward. He’d never been this close to you before, maybe a few inches away from the tip of your nose. Your gaze tripped to his eye, the eye that Mingyu had driven his clenched fist into that one night, causing Junhui’s head to thrust back against the plaster. You swallowed the salty brick in your throat.

“I heard you like to purge now.” Junhui said with a smile. You swore his caramel gaze glinted with excitement.

Your blood froze. How did he know about that? Junhui saw through you like a translucent piece of plastic. He saw how you inwardly panicked.

“I was surprised,” he cooed, “you don’t seem like the type… But I suppose all that running around with Mingyu changed your morals.”

Your heart was beating at such a frantic pace you feared it may dislodge itself from your chest and land in your mouth.

“I’m so elated you found purpose,” his midnight fronds then fell mischievously before his eyes, keeping the candor of his secrets hidden from you, “the purge is a time of cleansing intended to help people like us find a little alleviation in the world. That one person whose been causing you grief? You won’t have to worry about their disgusting discrepancy that makes you so infuriated. It’s quite healing,” Junhui purred, “if you ask me.”

It felt as though someone just ripped your tongue from between your teeth. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. A splash of rain thumped your forehead, and yet you allowed the cold bead to trickle along the side of your nose and run onto your cheek. Junhui’s hand delicately raised, his thumb caressing the droplet away. He stood closer now, eliminating any room in which the wind could whisper through, his bangs tickling your forehead as his onyx pupils bore through your heated face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking toward your lips through his heavy lashes, his fingers pointing your chin upward, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt just because Mingyu can’t take care of you.”

“I-I trust him,” You managed to squeak, though it required every bone in your body to summon equal modicums of courage.

“C’mon,” Junhui seemed to taunt, “you know who I am, right? I can have any weapon, any blueprint, any ctv footage I want directly in my hands, and all it takes is a single phone call.” He grinned wolfishly. “Besides, Mingyu doesn’t have the most durable history of looking out for others.”

His grip on your chin hardened like steel, heart-shaped lips pressed lightly to your ear’s cusp, “you do know what happened to Minghao, don’t you?”

Your body turned more frigid than ice, the warm blood that pumped beneath your skin running colder with every second that Junhui stood, seeing straight through you and to his old friend he’d hurt so dearly. You instantly grew sick to your stomach. The universe beyond Junhui’s shadow was spinning wildly, darting in nauseating circles like a carousel. The images came in flickers; the truck pulling into the driveway, the window cranking down, the crack of the gun as its bullet pierced a shape in the darkness. No wonder Jihoon and Wonwoo were friends with Junhui. He had been the other person in Mingyu’s car.

You felt lightheaded, like you were going to faint.

“I’ll let you go, but just consider your options. Really, truly consider them.” Junhui murmured. “I’m sure you have some personal contentions kept covert beneath that kind tongue of yours. Given your participation, I know you can upheaval your need to feel purification. If you’re wise, you’ll cleanse with us, with me, as you are entitled to.”

Without a single ripple Junhui broke away, his touch drifting like the edges of a silk blanket from your cheek. Immediately afterward, a disturbing burst of wind whipped between your bodies, inducing a long shiver that crept down your spine and fizzled at your fingertips. Your throat felt like cracked sandpaper and your chest bottomed out with a horrendous, wrenching fear.

Junhui knew that Mingyu didn’t fear him, but he knew that you feared him, and he knew that your fear would grow to consume you now that you’d been introduced to the devastating truth. 

The radio was on, high-pitched static and monotonous advisement rasping through the car’s sound system. It was clear that in time, there would be a chorus of other harsh noises leaping to fill the sky, any pockets of oxygen, and the spaces that lingered between your hazy breathing. Yet in the dense heat, you could care less.

This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of The Annual Purge, sanctioned by the government.

It was hot, burning. The air felt like scorching linen that pressed fire into your skin. Mingyu’s teeth scraped along your collarbones, the thin layer of flesh that mapped over them singed with bruises and bites and kisses that still glistened.

Weapons of Class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.

The radio continued to blip. Your fingers tangled through his earth-toned tresses, gripping the thick strands and tugging on them as your throat started to ache. The windows were splotched with oily fingerprints that had been left earlier, when you first climbed onto his lap.

Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Your legs quivered over his thighs, his hands guiding your hips with such a brute strength that the pain welled into numbness and everything that surrounded you seemed nonexistent, save for where your bodies connected like a jewel to its staff. His forehead fell on your shoulder, groans muffled as they brushed your hot skin. He continued to hit deep, and you knew you couldn’t hold on for much longer, the sparks catching a foreshadowing flame 

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

It was then, when your weight came down on his lap for the final time, his hips stuttering upward at the perfect moment, that your head tossed back and you felt the energy rip from your body in a single scream. Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you flush against him, working the pleasure for all its worth. You then buried your face into his neck, a soft sea of your whimpers filling the thick air whilst Mingyu emptied inside you, filling you with warmth.

Police, fire and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7am, when the Purge concludes.

For a moment, you just needed to close your eyes and breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat, feel the familiar heat spread throughout your abdomen. He squeezed your hips tight, and his words were barely audible, attempting to drown over the radio’s static as well as the heavy breaths from your lungs. You heard them, even if your ears really had to strain to decipher the syllables whispered at the peak of his sensitivity. Mingyu said he loved you, and he meant it with every ounce of his soul as he felt your body shake in his arms.

Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and a nation, reborn.

And you would have meekly hummed the words in return, if the sudden cacophony of a siren didn’t shred the air like pastry, startling your system that had just come down from the best cloud nine experience you could ever fathom. It would have been wondrous to bask in the afterglow, to trace patterns on his biceps and run your lips over the scar in his brow.  It had all been purloined from you in an instant. Though your centre still ached, you crept off his lap and into the passenger seat, cleaning yourself up as best you could.

“Here,” Mingyu held out his jacket that he’d tossed in the backseat, probably since your training in the fields, “it’ll keep you warm if it actually rains tonight.”

“Thanks.” You murmured whilst slipping the fabric around your body, noting that something a little heavy was inside one of the pockets. You remembered the gun was still inside. Suddenly, Mingyu started the car, the engine purring lowly and musty clouds of exhaust puffing into the empty parking lot.

He tapped the steering wheel with his palm, “where should we head?”

When the sirens faded away, you looked to him and smiled, “wherever you want.”

The red sun seemed anxious to disappear, for its rays cracked across the sky like bloodied, broken ice, hurriedly pushing itself further below the horizon as Mingyu drove into town. The Purge never introduced an easy atmosphere to stomach, yet tonight, you felt the bile in your throat was more acidic than usual. Maybe it was because you knew a huge secret, one that tied Mingyu’s hatred to Junhui’s existence.

You didn’t confess to Mingyu anything. Every word that seeped like a venom from Junhui’s lips was sealed within you, and only you. It was already painful enough for Mingyu to brace through such a traumatic incident. There would come a time when he told you his reasons for hating Junhui, and that time had yet to come.

Even so, the terror was exhausting. The first few nights after your encounter with Junhui, your slumber was plagued by gruesome nightmares, his comfortable laughter, and the black fire that seeped in his eyes as though he were some underworld creature. You’d slam awake in a cold sweat. At times you’d be so drenched that you needed to take a shower before going back to sleep, that is, if your mind allowed you to. Sometimes you would phone Mingyu and lie to him, tell him you needed to hear the brass in his voice as your nighttime spell.

You never told him about the nightmares, the panic, or the anxiety. Now the Purge had returned after its position was quelled in the nation for a year. Your head turned to glance more thoroughly out the window after you flitted past a man holding an axe tool, a painted mask shielding his face.

It didn’t take long for the streets to begin flooding with people of the same stature, and if their eyes of thirst were hidden behind costumes, then it became more than evident in the weaponry that adorned their guises. Mingyu seemed calm as he stared out the dash, his eyes giving away nothing that would hint toward his inner complex. You sighed and let your cheek rest in your palm, your gaze unable to stop tracing each and every person that emerged from the dark crevices.

About forty-five minutes had passed, driving around the quieter outskirts of the city. Looking into the side-mirror, you watched as the occasional killing occurred behind you.

Mingyu smiled. “The night just started and you already look like you’re over it.”

The echo of a gun pierced the air. You cringed slightly.

“I don’t know if I’m over it or not. I guess I’m thinking about how I’ll ever suppress witnessing senseless murder, y’know?”

The boy gently stuck his arm out, across the glove compartment, his thumb stroking your cheek for a fond moment.

“We don’t have to hang around. I can drive up to the field where we’ll be away from the worst of it. What do you want, baby?” He asked.

You scratched at your knuckles and puffed through your nose. “I don’t even know what I want. Am I supposed to feel this way?”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, “what way?”

“Melancholic, sorta like everything seems pointless. How do you feel?”

Mingyu took a wide turn to avoid a collection of smashed bottles that glinted on the road, increasing the vehicle’s speed steadily as the chaos increased. Like your first Purge, you saw the distant glow of burning buildings appear across the lake, at the other side of the city.

“I don’t even know if I can describe it anymore.” He shrugged.

You turned your head to look at him, deciding to ask something rather abrupt, but a topic you were curious on nonetheless. 

“Why did you start purging?”

The boy’s canines pushed into his bottom lip as he probed his mind.

“Because I was friends with someone who wanted to. Even involving yourself once makes enemies. You can’t hide from it after that.” 

Staring at the side of his face, you felt almost dirty for knowing a pivotal piece belonging to Mingyu’s past.

“Were you friends with Junhui?”

There was a thick silence as you waited for Mingyu’s response.

“At one point, yes.” He admitted, his words sounding distasteful. 

You shifted up in the seat, stretching out your hand to rub Mingyu’s bicep. 

“I don’t care if you were. I know you aren’t the same as him, and that this night changes people. You don’t let it consume you like he does.”

Mingyu took a turn through a wide alleyway to avoid a hostile situation escalating at the far end of the intersection. You didn’t get a good look as the sky was continuing to lose its orange light, but the flash of the group’s masks and weapons was convincing enough to take a different path.

You couldn’t help but note that Mingyu’s eyes had become slightly watered.

“It was never about purification,” he told you, “I never had any specific target, or someone I detested. Neither did Jun. But he comes from a family that relies on purging as their income. His mom designs weapons and his dad works for some underground branch, assigning bounties. He just isn’t the same as us. I was lucky if I could even hold a gun in my hands without trembling. I had to learn how to desensitize myself. For Jun, it was almost natural.”

A familiar sickness made your stomach twirl.

“It’s sad he had to grow up like that.” You sighed, glancing out the window whilst Mingyu remained silent. 

A few minutes later, and you were laughing. “I didn’t mean to make the mood so terrible. I was just wondering.”

“I know,” Mingyu said, his lips curling warmly, “I can’t blame you for being curious, baby. I just don’t think back on my past all that much.”

He then gave you a thoughtful look, and your chest started fluttering embarrassingly fast. “I like focusing on right now, where I have you.”

It was quiet again, to which you let your thoughts roam astray. 

You pictured the night your father disappeared, the night your mother’s life was taken away from her when she wasn’t even capable of defending herself. The feeling of coming down the stairway to broken glass, spilt moonlight, and a dirtied face lugging her away couldn’t be compared to any pain. And daring to unlock that enraged, bitter half of yourself, you thought to applying pressure on the trigger that killed the man responsible for her death.

Those memories influenced your appreciation, your gratitude, toward Mingyu, the boy who you had always admired at a distance, never knowing he could be so tender and benevolent. It was possible that you could have turned out similar to Junhui if you let your indignation take control. Seeing how Mingyu always remained so grounded helped you keep your footing, and you hoped there never came a day when you started looking at the world how Junhui did.

All of sudden, your musing was shattered when a pick-up truck roared from an alleyway and soared into the street, plumes of grey smoke pumping from its pipes as the tires screeched against the asphalt.

”Mingyu, watch out!” You screeched, gripping the steering wheel.

At the same time, Mingyu veered away from the truck, your heart nearly tearing a hole right through your chest as the head of your vehicle rammed into a light post. The collision jolted your body forward, though the seatbelt kept you strapped in and unscathed. Mingyu cursed through his teeth.

“Fuck, are you okay?” He rasped.

“I-I’m fine. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” You replied shakily.

Mingyu’s facial expression relaxed for less than a second. He appeared ready to oblige, though casting another inspection into his features relayed a nauseating truth. Suddenly, Mingyu’s hand gripped the back of your neck and he forced your head down between your legs. You heard it, the crisp echo of a gunshot. Except there was no bullet that punctured the glass and made fragments rain over your body. There was no dent in the metal door either. The barrel was purposely aimed to a different area, and as the second shot fired off, you felt like passing out.

They’re shooting at the tires.

Mingyu whispered to you with a coarse urgency, “this way!”

He’d managed to open his door, your only choice of escape a labyrinth of alleyways that lay beyond the mangled car. The alleys were dark, damp, and most likely rife with impending danger. Your throat closed in when you attempted to swallow. You could see the blade that Mingyu had collected from the console, already tight in his hand. Licking your leathered lips, you squirmed out his side after he’d gone through. He was squatted down, waiting for you.

Just as you joined him, you cast a glance above Mingyu’s head, your blood turning into ice as a slim figure appeared around the back end of the car. It was a man, dressed in a black raincoat, long and glossy. He was wearing a dirtied, white mask, where kohl paint was runny down the large eyes and the mouth was outlined in a red marker. Next to his side was the long barrel of a shotgun, and you felt unimaginably dizzy. Mingyu immediately identified the terror that leaked into your gaze, and with a thick gulp, he dared stare over his shoulder.

“Hey Mingyu,” the stranger mumbled, taking the pointed chin of the mask and tipping it upward, revealing a fox-like face, “long time no see.”

Mingyu wrapped his fingers around your hand and stood up slowly, ensuring your body was sheltered by his size. You breathed as quietly as your vandalized chest would allow, your diaphragm keening to erupt. 

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu echoed, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you or anything.” The boy said, his voice very deep and smooth. The depth reverberated in your chest and made your skin crawl.

“Are you crazy, dude?” Mingyu growled. “You shot out my fucking tires.”

Wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. “I was just following orders.”

You had no idea what was happening. The only piece of concrete knowledge that hadn’t been fogged over in tangible fear was that you could still hear incessant firing in the distant, chaotic screaming and rioting. Looking down to the blade that glinted in Mingyu’s palm, you were able to plant a little reassurance in yourself knowing of his skill and ability to stay grounded. Keeping your mouth shut, you held Mingyu’s hand in a vice grip.

“Following orders from who? What are you talking about? Are you wired?”

“It’s understandable you would think that,” Wonwoo sighed, “but I’m not. If I were though, your death might be a little easier.”

“Since when are you supposed to kill me?” Mingyu sounded flat out bewildered.

It was then that it dawned on you: Mingyu really had no idea Wonwoo was still a part of Junhui’s brigade. 

Grinding your teeth together in contemplation, you finally decided to swallow the grain in your throat and break the truth. Getting close to Mingyu’s ear, you whispered to him what you knew, no matter how much of a fable it may be perceived as. Visibly, his body stiffened. His fingers gripped the blade’s handle with an unprecedented rage. 

“What are you doing?” Mingyu implored, candor in his despair. “Even after what he did to Minghao? What the hell is holding you to him?”

“It’s nothing personal, but as you know already, Junhui is filthy rich,” Wonwoo gloomed, cocking the barrel once more, “and he’s promised me some things.”

Mingyu clenched his jaw. “You mean more of those drugs he keeps stealing from his dad’s lab? Wonwoo, what the fuck happened to you? The last time I heard from you, you were getting clean, you were going to start fresh!”

There was an unorthodox twinkle in his black stare, oddly full of emotion, hurt, repressed pain that cut deeper inside than out. 

“I tried,” Wonwoo stated, a slight anger tainting his voice, “I went to three different rehabilitation clinics. I took a vacation to the rural springs and received lessons in guided meditation and bought myself a journal so I could document my success in getting clean. And you know what? I haven’t touched that journal since the day I fucking bought it. Tell me, Mingyu. How the fuck am I supposed to care about staying clean, how the fuck am I supposed to care about anything when I saw the love of my life get fucking shot right in front of me?”

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, “Wonwoo, I--, I know that was horrible, I know that hurt you and--”

“Just shut up,” the elder interrupted flatly, “maybe today I’ll actually feel something when I put this barrel between your eyes.”

It was impossible to stand by and remain silent. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gathered a modicum of courage and poked your head around Mingyu’s shoulder.

“So you’re going to kill us just because Junhui wants you to? That’s how you’re going to live the rest of your life? Listening to his psychotic fantasies about purification and entitlement?”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw taunt.

“I know you loved Minghao, I know your life hasn’t felt the same since. Minghao was Mingyu’s best friend too. You weren’t the only one who lost somebody. Do you think when I came downstairs at fourteen years old and saw my mother get pulled away through the window that I wasn’t upset, angry, confused at the world? Junhui just sees you as a pawn to delegate the matters he doesn’t want to dip his hands into, but you’re a real person. Wake up and act like it!”

For even just a fraction of a second, Wonwoo’s shoulders slumped, his finger that was feathering the gun’s trigger drifted from contact, and the stoic cloud in his eyes fuzzed a little. You were starting to feel confident. Yet just as easily as the feeling came to you, you were caught off guard by an arm that slid around your neck and lurched you backward, against a hard chest.

Mingyu barked immediately, his blade drawn and eyes wildly dilated as he turned to face the person responsible for holding onto you. Biting the inside of your mouth, you squirmed and thrashed and kicked, until something cold pressed into your temple and suddenly the energy evaporated from your body like dew droplets on an August day. 

Mingyu’s voice sounded rusty as he gaped again. “Jihoon?!”

Wonwoo piped up suddenly, and his eyes turned cold once more. “Be careful, dammit. She’s the one we can’t afford to bruise up.”

Jihoon’s arm was now wrapped around your neck, pressing against your windpipe and causing your air supply to falter. You knew it was a gun that was poking sharply into your temple. 

Mingyu’s gaze was wild and rife with fire. He growled between his teeth like a wolf. “Don’t even fucking think about it, Jihoon.”

Wonwoo stepped forward and shook his gun at the boy who was closing off on your breathing. “Junhui wants that one,” he pressed the snout of his weapon into your chin, “alive.”

Jihoon sulked, his voice rumbling in his chest, “So what’s our fun tonight? We kill Mingyu and then pack up?”

You wriggled again in Jihoon’s arms, tempted to gnaw right into his wrist. “Can we not kill anybody?!”

“Calm down,” Wonwoo instructed, “I hate shouting. If any of you shout I’m planting a bullet in your brain.”

“You’re such a bore,” Jihoon whined, pressing into your windpipe with more force, painting speckles of white across your vision. Mingyu was bubbling with rage, like a teapot left on the burner for too long, his teeth clamping down so tightly his whole face was aching.

Wonwoo used the muzzle of the gun to tip your chin toward the moonlight. “A word of advice. Stop struggling and you won’t get hurt.”

“H-He’s hurting me,” you attempted to coherently spit past the pressure concocted against your throat. Jihoon was issuing enough force to make your eyes water and your head spin. Mingyu piped up, but Wonwoo was swifter and beat him to it.

“Lighten your grip.” He told Jihoon.

“I’m not even holding her that tightly!” The boy protested. Wonwoo’s face didn’t crack. He just repeated himself with an underlying menace.

“Lighten. Your. Grip.”

“It’s all pretending! Can’t you see? They’re trying to distract you so Mingyu can shove that blade through your back. Don’t be so fucking soft, Wonwoo. Look! I’m hardly touching—“

Bang.

Wonwoo dug his gun right into Jihoon’s forehead and pulled the trigger, the strict barrier against your throat immediately releasing. A fresh gulp of air hastily entered your lungs as you stumbled, Jihoon’s body folding onto the sidewalk from the corner of you eye. Mingyu quickly caught you, cupped your face in his hands and wiped the beaded sweat at your forehead. He kept whispering to you that you were okay, repeated the words in a soothing, husky mantra, his thumbs stroking your jaw in comforting sweeps. The ringing in your ears was unfathomably painful, it stung and stung and stung.

“Well,” Wonwoo announced with a despondent sigh, setting the gun over his shoulder, “I really do hate yelling.”

Mingyu’s kissed your forehead briefly. Your lips were still dry and they struggled to form a word of thanks to Wonwoo. The boy shrugged.

“He was holding you kind of tightly.”

Mingyu gasped, “no fucking kidding.”

Wonwoo sighed. “I guess I don’t expect to live much longer now that I’ve gone and wasted my companion here with my last few bullets. Not to mention I have  prolonged the existence of your life, Mingyu, which I was strictly ordered not to do. It was nice to meet your little partner in crime too.”

“What are you talking about?” Mingyu questioned whilst gathering you into his side.

“I didn’t follow through on my order. I can’t bring myself to do it. ” Wonwoo mumbled. “We’ll catch up in the afterlife or something. Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. You’ll probably be with Minghao while I deservedly rot. One of life’s many mysteries, right?”

There wasn’t much of an opportunity to process the situation, not when a gunshot echoed from down the alleyway and pierced the boy in his temple. The shotgun clamped in his hand clattered against the cold, concrete sidewalk, and his mask clattered off his head. His body joined the likes of Jihoon who’d been staring up at the night sky with dead, glazed eyes, a trail of red leaking down his nose. Your head pivoted and you felt a surge of vomit climb to the back of your mouth, for the person behind the trigger was Yang Yeeun, her pearl earrings flashing against the silver moonlight.

“Horrendous.” Her accent was thick with venom, heels clicking down the alleyway as she stalked in her black trousers and white dress shirt.

Intimidation sweltered against your skin at just her attire. The fact she dressed expensively for the night proved she wasn’t expecting to get in any confrontation that would result in her own blood being spilt.

“I expected Jihoon to cause trouble, but not Wonwoo. He was so promising. I guess he really did need drugs to stay sane.”

She stepped over a corpse you hadn’t noted lying face down in the alley, growling between her teeth.

“Filthy,” Yeeun remarked without a grain of empathy, “nothing but filth.”

Mingyu gripped your wrist and you felt your body stumble behind him. Keeping your arms drawn against his back and softly breathing, you inhaled the musky scents of damp, nighttime air and car exhaust. Though you couldn’t directly see Yeeun, her voice was still audible, lacquered in such a feigned delicacy it reminded you of Junhui. Mingyu hadn’t said a thing. He didn’t have to speak for you to know his heart was decaying.

“There’s my sweet boy.” Yeeun cooed. She was close now, so close you peered between Mingyu’s legs and saw her shiny heels standing in blood spatters. 

She regarded Mingyu like they were still together, like they still reflected the image of romance that was envied by so many people, you included. Her arm extended, pale, numb fingers brushing along his amber cheek. You wanted to scream at her to never touch him again. It was her own mistake to let Mingyu go, when he was positively in love with her and preached their future with honeyed words, like an artist who preaches with paint.

“You know, I miss you,” she hummed, tracing the flint of his jaw, “I’m so terribly sorry you had to witness your old best friends get a bullet to the brain, but, that is what happens when tensions are high, and, you know, we can’t afford to let many errors slip past us. Now, let’s not let that put a damper on the night. It’s still young, and so much has yet to happen. How about you come with me?”

You knew there was a handgun she was keeping pressed to her leg right now, and that if neither of you complied, it would be put to good use. Mingyu hadn’t opened his mouth. His lips were tight and his eyes were concentrated. Maybe he was trying to scheme.

Yeeun stretched out her gun and let the muzzle clink with Mingyu’s knife, trying to push the weapon from his hand.

“Just drop this and follow me, sweetheart. Due to these unforeseen events, there’s been a change and your presence has been urgently requested.”

Quicker than expected, Mingyu complied. He let the blade untwine from his grasp and rattle against the ground. If he did have some sort of plan, you were hoping that giving up his only weapon was part of it.

“She can come too,” Yeeun purred, “Junhui wants to see both of you.”

Yeeun trudged behind you, her weapon drawn, a manicured nail feathering upon the trigger just in case one of you attempted something of trickery. Tall, grimy buildings surrounded you, leading up to the black sky, where the stars gazed down in lamentation. Mingyu’s fingers were wrapped around your wrist with such steely strength that you felt your circulation dwindle, though the tiny, tingling feeling would never surpass the fear that sat like a pound of tar in your stomach. Similar to your first purge, tears pushed at your ducts, though there was a certain exhaustion shrouding your body that prevented them from falling.

Despite your unstable condition, the possibility of death snickering right in your face, the wavering thought that either Junhui or Yeeun could imbue a torturous fate, you were worried about Mingyu.

Yeeun was playing him expertly. She knew it wasn’t her heart that cracked after their breakup, it was Mingyu that suffered independently.  Only he bit the nail, only he felt the salt mix with his wounds, and only he would welt in self-contemplation over a love that he nurtured, alone. If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate? Would he be afraid of hurting someone he used to treasure so dearly? You didn’t doubt his affections for you. His heart was strong, but what if Yeeun’s deceit was stronger?

The labyrinth of alleyways had finally led you to a dead end. Your wrist shook in Mingyu’s grasp, for the man nonchalantly leaning against the solid wall was none other than—

“Junhui,” Yeeun cawed, “you won’t believe what the fuck just happened. Wonwoo popped Jihoon. He’s dead, should have brought more crew instead of displacing them like we did.”

She finished her sentence by fitting her gun right snug at the back of your head.

Junhui spat onto the floor before he unstuck himself from leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark trench coat.  

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, “using Wonwoo and Jihoon was a squander anyways. I could have concluded both their lives at a much more efficient pace. I’m guessing you took care of the traitor?”

Yeeun cackled, “right though the side of his head. He fell like a stack of cards.”

“It’s a real disappointment,” Junhui huffed, “since the beginning Wonwoo and Jihoon have shown the utmost loyalty for me and my craft. But, I guess this just demonstrates how purifying this device truly is. We’re ridding the streets of scum, aren’t we?”

Mingyu released your wrist, and you felt like a bomb had just dropped to the soles of your feet. His lips parted and his voice was deep. Hearing him speak allowed your heartbeat to calm, even with Yeeun’s gun taunt into your hair.

“The streets will never be rid of scum until you’re over and done with.”

Junhui cocked his head, his mouth falling open and his eyes twinkling as though a tiny flame had ignited in their inky depths.

“And here is the biggest traitor of them all!” 

Junhui tossed his head back and ludic laughter echoed into the compressing air, “how do you suppose you’ll rid me, Mingyu? Are you going to give me another black eye? Curse at me? Damn me to hell and back because of what happened that night? Damn me behind my back because I took Yeeun away from you? The girl you once loved and valued with your every essence?”

It was then that Junhui shifted his sights on you, his lips pulling wide in a smile.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mingyu, but your partner and I exchanged a very compelling conversation a while ago. I guess word never got around to you.”

Junhui’s boots dragged over the crumbs of dirt and asphalt that littered the ground, his presence nearing closer and closer. When you tried to lower your head, Yeeun’s gun pressed with a stricter force into your scalp, filling you with enough fear to keep your gaze straight.

“You’re very fortunate, Mingyu. To have such a pretty thing to call your own.”

Junhui’s hand reached for your chin. His touch was colder than the dark shadows that masked his soul, and it engendered a shiver to slither along your spine. 

“Don’t put your hands anywhere near her!” Mingyu seethed, to which Yeeun instantly switched her gun to point against the back of his skull.

You could see his jaw clench from your peripheral vision. But Junhui didn’t listen, and his thumb pushed down on your bottom lip as though he intended to brand your skin with his insanity. He spoke lowly, smoothly, confidence lathered into his every syllable.

“Do you know why I did it?” Junhui stared into your eyes and asked.

“Dd-did w-what?” You warbled.

“It wasn’t because I was jealous of Wonwoo and Minghao, or because I had some personal contention against the boy. I didn’t even think when I pressed the trigger. I spent the whole night adding so much blood to my hands, that the moment I saw another shadow move, my body just - it just acted for me. Like it was an instinct. I wasn’t sad... But I wasn’t happy. I only knew I was no longer myself... I was someone stronger, someone enhanced, and that is the greatness of this evening!”

Junhui clutched your shoulders and shook them, his eyes alight with a certain derangement that petrified you to your core.

“You’re reborn! Don’t you get it? You’re no longer tied down by the concept of goodness, and your free will is truly free. When will you two realize that--”

Out of nowhere, Mingyu shoved into your side so aggressively you stumbled sideways and collapsed on the sooty ground. The air was knocked from your lungs and your heart pumped like it had been electrocuted. Fuzzy splotches of colour coalesced before your watered vision, projecting nothing but an obnoxious blur. There was shouting, the loud crack of a harmless gunshot, and scuffling that emanated from every direction. Before you could separate the blacks from the blues, something cold wrapped around your wrist and dragged you backward. Then, your entire body was thrust up against the brick, scrapes and bruises already forming on your bare skin.

When your head stopped spinning and the world dulled down from reflecting three versions of the same image, you were shuttering, whimpering, as Junhui held you firmly against the wall.

Across the alleyway you could see that Mingyu had Yeeun pressed to the floor, his palm covering her throat whilst he took advantage of his weight to keep her slim frame still. He fought to unwind the firearm from her fingers, but when he did, the weapon was digging into her forehead. You wanted to scream at him to pull the trigger, to fucking end her already, even if your throat felt like it had been scraped of all moisture and scrubbed with a pad of steel wool. You heard Junhui snicker, his mouth twisted cynically. It was evident what he was thinking, for it was identical to your own thought.

“Like hell you’ll do it!” Junhui screamed.

If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate?

Love. It was just as much a weapon as it was a comfort. And as Mingyu stared down at Yeeun, silver pearls of water slipping from her brown eyes, the eyes he had fallen for, you felt consumed by terror, that your life may truly end at this exact location. Mingyu proved your doubts were transparent and his finger jammed against the trigger. Except – there was nothing, nothing at all. The gun had no ammunition left. Yeeun sighed heavily.

“Don’t do this,” she mewled, still wriggling beneath him, full-fledged tears pumping down her flushed, scarlet face, “I never meant to hurt you. It’s just – you wouldn’t understand why – he didn’t leave me any choice!”

Mingyu released his ironclad grip over her throat and used his fingers to sweep the stray hairs from her eyes.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He abruptly snapped. “You lie through your teeth like it’s the only thing you’re good for. You don’t love anyone or anything. I bet you lost that silver spoon you were born with, huh? Daddy’s security systems aren’t as bulletproof as he thought they were? So you had to run to Junhui?”

She gargled slightly on her own saliva, coughing a bit of foam, though she never tried to respond.

Mingyu lifted Yeeun’s head in his hands. Squeezing your eyes shut didn’t make the snapping noise any less gruesome. If anything, it only amplified the sickness building in your gut, it only amplified Junhui’s enraged storm of cursing as his companion’s body went limp, her eyes stained with not even a smidgen of regret. If there was any regret at all, it was that she couldn’t have killed you herself. Hope began trickling back into your body, and, taking advantage of Junhui’s distracted vacancy, you attempted to give him a swift kick.

And yet that thought was a mistake in itself. Junhui lost his composure, his sophistication.

Your struggling only encouraged the anger spilling inside him, prompted him to uncover a blade that was hidden inside his coat, its silver gleam reflecting off your eyes for a millisecond before you felt its sharp edge nuzzle into your skin, somewhere around your stomach. A surge so violent and unbridled soared through your body, forced you to lean over the blade where your eyes soaked up the unholy sight of Junhui’s knuckles pale as snowflakes wrapped around the handle. You spluttered out nothing but air, watched as dark liquid began seeping from the wound and wetting your shirt.

Junhui took it upon himself to slowly, ever so slowly, extract the knife from its crevice, his teeth grinding together as just the point remained in your flesh. Then, he dug the blade back in through its opening, giving the weapon a slight twist. 

When Mingyu had risen from Yeeun’s corpse and tore Junhui away from you, a silent sob wobbled off your lips. At some point that your mind was too fogged to remember, you were sitting, slumped against the wall as thick, grey storm clouds crowded the night sky. When you could no longer find solace amongst the stars, your gaze flitted across the alleyway, to where Junhui and Mingyu were a vicious tangle of limbs that punched and kicked and pulled. It reminded you of the party, the stupid party that had somehow preluded your path to cross with Mingyu’s. They were shouting at one another, at war for Junhui’s knife that kept slipping from their grasps like butter.

Wincing, you stretched an arm to fold over your stomach, attempting to apply even the meekest amount of pressure to your wound. Your brow furrowed when something hard nudged against your arm, a harsh weight that seemed to sit inside your jacket.

Well, it wasn’t your jacket, it was Mingyu’s.

Chewing down on the inside of your mouth, you ignored the pain that cut through your every nerve and fought to wind your hand within the jacket, fingers poking and shuffling around until they brushed the pocket stitched to the inside. Despite your battered condition, you nearly yelped when you gripped the handgun, the same gun that you’d used to practice your aim in the fields. There was not a moment to squander, nor a moment to think. Your whole body screamed as you drew the weapon from its pouch, fingers slippery with blood as you fought to turn the safety off.

Your entire arm shook like a brittle leaf in mid-autumn, yet you still held the gun forth, your head banging, your vision blurred, bile pushing and stinging against your throat. Junhui had Mingyu pinned to the grit, his boot heavy on Mingyu’s wrist. Raised in the air was the knife, stained with red globs of your blood. It was just like the party, except it wasn’t a tiny glass shard sealed between Junhui’s fingers. It was a literal hacking device. There was nothing you could do to stop your arm from shaking. You had no more ammunition apart from the bullet left in the gun.

What if I miss, what if I miss Junhui and hit Mingyu? What if I hit Junhui but it isn’t enough to stop him? I don’t think I can do this. I can’t I can’t I can’t—

“So,” Junhui barked, his vocal chords strained and hoarse, “where’s your little guardian angel now, huh? If it weren’t for your girlfriend fucking getting in the way two years ago, you would have had it, Mingyu. But now there’s no one to save you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. Finally, I’m entitled to purge how I’ve always wanted.”

The tears finally erupted from their ducts, streaming down your dusted cheeks and dripping at your chin. You felt like a child, a blubbering infant.

But it wasn’t worth it to lose Mingyu.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened when you sucked back the distracting binds of your self-doubt and clamped the trigger down. It didn’t register that the bullet had struck Junhui’s head until his body collapsed off of Mingyu’s lap, lying lax on the pebbles like a sack of flour. It didn’t register that you had saved Mingyu’s life until the first few cold splashes of rain thumped against your forehead, dampened your lashes, and trickled along your scuffed flesh. The gun dropped from your fingers and the whole world went black.

The next time you awoke, you were faced with a pair of glimmering, penny eyes that rapidly blinked, tiny crinkles mapping along wet, amber skin. An instant pain jolted into your gut when you attempted to fidget, and a whine nearly tore itself from between your cracked lips.

“Don’t try to move,” you heard a rough voice, “stay still as best you can.”

“Mingyu?” You croaked, reaching upward to stroke his cheek. 

His fingers coiled gently around your wrist, bringing the scars that were carved like ancient hieroglyphics to his lips. The second he pressed kisses to the old wounds, you smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake,” he rasped, his eyes soft, gleeful, “you fucking saved me, y’know? It’s because of you I’m still here, still breathing. All because of you.”

Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Wait… So, I’m not… dreaming?” 

Despite Mingyu’s earlier advisement to stay still, you forced your body upward, though you faced immediate repercussions as a jarring bolt struck you in the stomach. Mingyu attempted to make you relax once more, but you refused to listen to his cooing. Distant thunder rolled in the distance, and you could see a pale glow beaming behind the flossy clouds that shielded the sky. Seven o’clock was probably on the brink of arrival. You were still in the alleyway. Casting a glance toward your new wounds, you noticed that Mingyu had wrapped his jacket tightly around your waist.

“Now would be a good time for lots of gauze, right?” You smiled.

Mingyu settled his palm delicately at the back of your neck and pushed your lips together, a smile slowly dancing along his mouth as he felt your fingers thread through his locks. Just like Mingyu had predicted, a misty rainfall was spraying from the early morning sky, infinitesimal droplets of glass sitting upon his skin as though he were a springtime rose. You kissed his lips again, and again, and again, until the pain in your stomach became too much of a distraction and your head was falling to the crook of his neck. Stealing a glance around the alleyway, you couldn’t help but notice that Junhui and Yeeun’s bodies had been laid beside each other.

You thought about what Wonwoo had said.

Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. One of life’s many mysteries, right?

Well, at least Junhui and Yeeun would share an eternal fate in the one place they truly belonged, and it wasn’t exactly a mystery where that place was either.

“Mingyu,” you reached for his shirt and gave it a small tug.

He peered down at you through the fanned arch of his lashes.

“Are you still in a lot of pain, baby? I wish I could take it all away from you. I’m sure the medical services will be here soon, I promi—“

“I love you.”

Mingyu stuttered over the humid air. “O-Oh – I, um, I – I love you too… But, I think you already knew that.”

A molten blush crawled up from the column of his neck and flushed throughout his face akin to a raspberry burn. Though it ached to giggle, you couldn’t evade in doing so, your eyes turned to crescent moons as more golden splashes of dawn light ebbed through the clouds. Somewhere in the distance, you no longer heard gunshots, incoherent slurs, riots and the skid of tires creating friction against pavement. You heard the whirr of emergency sirens and helicopter wings, medical services beginning to flood throughout the city like a creek. It was over. Mingyu was still tangible, warm, smiling whilst he pressed kisses against your forehead.

You don’t know how, but you survived the chaos, you survived Wonwoo and his ludic friend, Jihoon. You survived Yeeun and you survived Junhui.

You survived the Purge together.

✎ a/n: ugh. this is just one of those fics where you become v attached to the characters. i was able to write this quicker than expected (MINUS THE STUPID TWIST THAT STUMPED ME) bc i was truly invested in the plot, and i rly adored every moment of it. actually, this fic was supposed to be posted ages ago, i think last year? but last year was terrible in terms of my health and wellbeing, so i kinda forgot this fic existed as i went on my hiatus. anywho, in my opinion, the first purge film was the best.

i haven’t watched any of the newer purge movies tho, so they could be good! since im a horror/thriller fan, i liked the aspect of vulnerability the purge brought and how it forced ppl to invest in their capacity for violence, especially when the ppl they loved were involved. obviously - only for the fic lmao. bruh, during a real purge i am going to lock myself in the crawl space with a blanket and some cheerios. ALSO!!!! A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!! be proud of me!!!! this was an adventure!!! i hope you can enjoy the story as much as i!! hearing ur thots is appreciated as always!

[bthump]

What do you think of griffith and casca’s relationship in the GA? pre-eclipse? I personally love their relationship and feel like its rarely ever mentioned in this fandom. I feel like griffith cared for casca, he knew she had feeling for him (that he didn’t reciprocate) but he didnt let it affect their relationship bc he cares about her beyond all that? There are lots if instances in the manga where he’s reassuring her/making sure she isn’t uncomfortable, they knew each other since they were kids like cmon!!! I hate how people always narrow down what they had to the eclipse incident, that wasnt even griffith at that point anymore…

Same, I love their relationship and it really gets sold short by the fandom! Honestly next to griffguts they might have my favourite relationship in the manga - it's complex, it's interesting, it's sweet but with hints of toxicity, they genuinely care for each other but they both fail each other in some ways, it’s a very believable friendship. In an AU where nothing went horribly wrong and they both grow a little I can easily imagine them being solid bffs.

One thing I love about their friendship is that their genuine sweetness goes hand in hand with their issues, not in a way that cancels out the positivity, but in a way that makes it more interesting. Like Griffith comforting Casca when she sees Gennon’s servants, and then comforting her again in the river as a way to shore himself up and close himself off. Or the way Casca knows Griffith better than anyone, she’s seen the vulnerability he hides and she knows that he’s hiding it, and if anything it seems to make her pedestalize him more.

I have issues with the way the pining is depicted in Casca’s speech by the waterfall, but I don’t mind the one-sided pining in theory and I think it adds to the melancholy vibe of their relationship. Griffith cares about Casca but he can’t return her feelings the way she wants, and Casca cares about Griffith but, arguably, her feelings for him influence her decision to tell Guts to leave.

But at the same time they’re good for each other in other ways - Griffith needs someone to see behind the mask and love him anyway, and that’s what Casca could be in a platonic way, if he hadn’t shut her out after the scene in the river, or if he’d had more time to grow as a person lol. And Casca says that having Griffith trust her as a soldier and captain helped her see her own self-worth, which I love. He introduces her to a lifestyle that genuinely enriches Casca’s life, eventually leading all the way to a knighthood (almost). Plus he looks out for her, he reassures her, he sends a search party after her as well as Guts and he’s kind and understanding about Casca’s mistake in going into battle with debilitating cramps lol.

And yeah I don’t think the eclipse rape reflected on their overall relationship at all. At most I think it could be somewhat informed by the the pre-eclipse sequence in a reversal of power kind of way, Griffith negating that sexualized vulnerability he may have felt with her in the wagon and in the domestic nightmares sequence, but the focus is so overwhelmingly on Guts’ feelings and Griffith looking at him that Casca practically feels incidental.

Anyway I’ll end this by linking you to another post I wrote about them which hits most of the same points but fleshes some out a bit:

https://bthump.tumblr.com/post/170954057686/how-do-you-feel-about-casca-and-her-relationship

Thanks for the ask!

[genevievemd]

Love You Home (2/5)

Chapter 2: Fear

A/N: How are we feeling after chapter one? Ready for more pain? Cause this is just more pain. But I do gift you the joy of Ethan x Harper friendship, also some fatherly love from Naveen. And a nice cameo of Dr. Tanaka and Bryce.

Also let me know if you catch the Grey’s Anatomy easter egg, an ode to Mark and Lexie that I managed to sneak in there - rather painfully, it may be slightly ooc but it was just too good to pass up. It also ties into the flashback that happens next chapter. (Which is how i justified it being ooc lol)

Buckle up, fam jam. Grab your tissues and emotional support items. She’s a long one. 

Pairing: Ethan x MC (Genevieve McClure)

It isn’t fair, to be in this position again. Standing behind a closed door, watching through a tiny window as his colleagues rush to save Genevieve’s life. 

Ethan did this a year ago - in a different hallway, on a different floor, with a different assailant. But the feeling was the same. The hands of fear squeezing his throat until there’s no air left in his lungs. 

It’s excruciating. Being on the outside, watching and praying that she won’t be ripped away from him. That his entire world won’t crumble in the next five minutes. 

He takes a breath and looks through the window again. Naveen is there now, his mentor’s eyes wide with terror at the sight before him. Even from this distance, Ethan can still see her covered in blood.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” a small voice breaks Ethan out of his fog. He forgot Sienna was with him, that she was the one to pull him out of the ER and into the hallway. 

“I, uh… I don’t know.” 

“What happened?” Dr. Varma’s voice comes from behind them, standing there with the rest of Genevieve’s friends. They all look as terrified as he feels, all love Gen just as much as he does and it’s a small comfort knowing he’s not alone in his fear. 

But they’re all staring at him, as if he has the answers and he doesn’t, not this time. All he has now is a crippling, gnawing anxiety blocking out any rational thought he could have. Sienna must see his inability to answer Jackie’s question, quickly stepping in the tell them what’s happened. 

At least last year he could still think straight, last year he was able to stay focused on finding a way to save her life. But not now. He’s too in love with her now to do anything but think about the dreadful notion that Genevieve could very well die on him. Before he has the chance to propose, before he can profess his love and commitment in front of all their family and friends, before he can watch her belly grow and they bring a new life into the world, before they buy a house with a yard for their kids to play in, before he can witness her surpass him as one of the greatest diagnosticians in the country. 

He’s never wanted anything in his life more than a life with Genevieve. 

Ethan’s about to look through the window again when the doors fly open and Naveen steps in front of them. His face is full of sorrow and fear, another reminder that Gen is so overwhelmingly loved by everyone in the hospital. 

Naveen looks at them for a long moment, meeting Ethan’s eyes quickly before turning to the group of residents. “You’re no good to Dr. McClure or your patients just standing here. Dr. Greene and Dr. Trinh, I need you to take over Genevieve’s patients. Dr. Varma, run up to the diagnostics office, tell Mirani and Mendoza what’s going on, that they’re going to have to handle the transfer patient from Hartford Hospital on their own, and to not page Dr. Ramsey under any circumstances. If they have a problem they can page me. After that I want you all to get back to work. We’ll let you let you know if anything changes.”

It’s rare that Banerji uses a commanding voice, so rare that it takes Gen’s friends all but one second to straighten up and leave. Bounding down the halls and away from him and Naveen. 

Ethan takes a breath, trying to steady his shaking hands before he looks at his friend. “She was going home to grab her dress. She forgot it by the front door this morning. I shouldn’t have let her leave...If she didn’t, if I was with her -” He can’t bring himself to continue, to hear his voice crack with emotion for another second. 

This isn’t who he is. He doesn’t get emotional, doesn’t get lost in feelings and things that are out of his control. But Genevieve has always brought out a different side of him. Even now, when she’s probably half dead and lost to him forever, her influence is just as strong as ever. 

“You can’t think like that. You couldn’t have known, no one could have known.” 

“The paramedic said she didn’t even make it to the car. She was right outside.” 

“Genevieve is strong, she made it through before and she’ll do it again.”

Ethan nods, keeping his gaze focused solely on the grey linoleum. He wants to believe that, believe that she’ll come back to him, that this isn’t the end. But it’s proving harder by the second, the longer he waits for answers the more difficult it is to believe she’ll survive. 

His fingers reach into the pocket of his white coat, gripping the ring box tightly in his hand. “I should’ve asked her already. I’ve had the ring for weeks. I shouldn’t have waited.” 

“You wanted it to be perfect. And it will be. Once she’s recovered and -”

“I can’t lose her, Naveen.”

“You won’t.” Naveen pats him on the shoulder, but it does nothing to sooth the ache in Ethan’s heart. “Come on, let’s get out of the hallway and go sit in the waiting room. I’ll stay with you.” 

He doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay where he is. He can see her from here. But he concedes, letting Naveen lead him into the waiting room. 

They sit for what feels like hours, Ethan’s gaze never leaving the direction of the emergency room. In reality he knows its only been minutes because Harper quickly emerges with Bryce and a few nurses wheeling Gen in with them. She’s saying something to him about internal bleeding and a punctured lung, but the rest gets lost in the deafening pounding in his ears. He’s can’t focus on anything but Genevieve, somehow looking smaller than normal against the red stained  sheets draped across the gurney. 

“Did you hear me?”

“What?” Rather reluctantly Ethan tears his eyes away from Genevieve to see Harper now standing in front of him. Her brows are knit together in concern, he’s not entirely sure if its concern for Gen or for himself. “No…”

“Go say goodbye, just in case.”

Ethan nods wordlessly, running over to Gen’s side. She’s still unconscious, face pale and almost lifeless. He can feel the air leave his lungs again as he takes her in. She’s battered and bruised, her gorgeous blonde hair caked with blood. There’s a gash on her forehead, just below her hairline, dark and red. 

He tentatively brings his hand to her cheek, fingers lingering on her skin. She’s almost cold to the touch, like her warmth has been sucked out of her. Her ever radiant sunshine eclipsed by the hands of death.

Ethan can feel the unfamiliar burning behind his eyes, the tears rushing back, as he holds her face in his hands. “Don’t you dare die on that table, Rookie. Do you hear me? You fight like hell and come back to me.” He knows they’re all watching him, he can feel their eyes on his back as he looks down at the woman he loves. Ethan lowers his voice to nothing more than a whisper, ensuring that only Genevieve can hear him. “Remember the house with the yard and the two kids...that I want to marry you. Don’t give up. Come back to me, Genevieve. Please, we’re meant to be.” 

Ethan stares at her for another moment, trying to commit every feature of her face to memory. 

Just in case. 

He takes a breath and leans down, gently placing his lips to Genevieve’s forehead. He’s not sure if she can hear him, if she even knows he’s there. But a small part of him is screaming that she can, that she knows. That she’ll hear his pleas and come back to him. “I love you, Gen. I love you. I love you.”  

“We have to take her now, Ethan.” Harper brings her hand to his shoulder, gently pulling him away from Genevieve. 

She gives him a small smile, a nod of determination before she, Bryce and the nurses disappear behind the doors to the OR hallways.

Ethan turns back to Naveen, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sits in the chair beside him. The fear is coming back, rising up from the pit of his stomach. He falls forward, resting his head in his hands. He lets out a ragged sigh as Naveen runs a comforting hand down his back. 

“Dr. Banerji?”

They look up to see a bewildered intern, standing awkwardly in front of them. 

“What is it?”

“They, uh, they told me to come find you and tell you that they just brought in the guy that attacked Dr. McClure. He’s in the ER with the police.”

Ethan feels the anger consume him, his veins erupt with a fury unlike anything he’s felt before. His feet move before he realizes what he’s doing, burning a path towards the ER. 

“Ethan, where are you going?” 

He can hear Naveen call after him, his foot fall a mere second behind Ethan’s. But he ignores him, pushing the doors of the emergency room open. 

“Where is he?” He all but barks at an unsuspecting nurse, the rage he feels fueled even more by the confused look on her face.

“Who?” 

“Who the fuck do you think I’m talking about?” 

“Ethan, leave it be. Let the staff and the police handle this.” Naveen reaches for him, grabbing his arm like his father would as a child - trying to keep him out of trouble, keep Ethan from making a mistake. 

He swivels his head, taking in every trauma bay and every patient that’s admitted until he finds his target. They’ve put him in the same bay that the paramedics used for Gen and it like adding kerosene to the fire burning him from the inside out. 

Ethan makes to the trauma team in record time, bounding across the still crowded ER in seconds. He’s not entirely sure what he’s about to do - punch him, wring his neck, drive a scalpel though his heart. Anything is better than letting the man who put Genevieve at deaths door breath for another second. 

“Woah, Woah, Woah.” Tanaka flies in front of him, grabbing Ethan’s fist before it can make contact. “Ramsey, he’s high. He’s hallucinating. He has no idea what he did. Back off.” 

“Back off!? Genevieve’s in surgery, she could die because of him.”

“And punching him in the face won’t change anything.” Tanaka stares him down, matching Ethan’s fury. “Get out of here and focus on your girl.”

“He’s right, son.” Naveen is behind him again, with another fatherly hand on Ethan’s arm. “Let Tanaka treat him. He’s covered in her blood, he’s not going anywhere. Focus on Genevieve and let the police handle this. Go.” 

Ethan looks between Naveen and Tanaka before turning away, loudly knocking over a tray of supplies before he walks out of the ER. 

————

4 months ago...

He can hear her laugh from halfway down the hall. That singsong in her voice so recognizable, he’s certain he could easily pick it out in a crowded room.

Ethan lets curiosity get the best of him, following the sound until he finds her. She’s in her elderly patients room, the one they rounded on that morning. Her back is to the door, looking down at the chart in her hand.

“Does he work in the hospital?”

“You’re really not gonna let this go are you, Mrs. St Clair?”

 “No.” Lottie smiles brightly at Genevieve, her eyes gleaming with mirth. “It’s that criminally handsome attending from this morning, Dr. Ramsey, isn’t it?”

Ethan smiles to himself as he sees Gen look up quickly, her head tilting ever so slightly. “How did you know?” 

“I saw the way he looked at you. It was the same way my Edward used to look at me.”

He can’t see Genevieve’s face but he know’s she smiling. The small one that starts at the corners of her mouth, the one where she has to look away to keep from blushing. 

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, very much.” She looks back down at the chart in her hands, “How long were you and your husband married?”

“Almost 55 years when he passed.”

“Wow.”

Lottie smiles mischievously again, “Indulge an old woman for a moment would you?”

Gen laughs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Sure.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“He’d probably tell you one year, but I say it’s closer to two. There was a lot of back and forth at the beginning, but I still count it as being together. There was no one else for me.”

“Would you marry him? If he asked?”

His breath catches at the question and it startles him for a moment why he desperately needs to know the answer. 

“In a heartbeat.”

“Does he know that?”

“I think so. But he’s said in the past that he wasn’t sold on the idea of marriage. Which I’m okay with. As long as I have him, I don’t need a ring.”

Lottie hums, “You know, when Edward and I first started dating, he said the same thing. Then one year later he got down on one knee. I teased him for years about it and he would always say ‘Lottie, when you meet the love of your life, everything changes.’” 

Ethan smiles, walking away before Gen can realize that he was listening. He’s not ready to hear a weeks worth of teasing about how he was absolutely eaves-dropping when he’s always so quick to call out others for doing the same. 

He walks back to the diagnostics office, fully intending to focus back on the team’s case and ignore beating of his heart. It hits him, as he steps back into the glass-walled room, that if he believed in such things as fate and destiny, it would so clearly show that Genevieve’s the one. The love of his life. His future. 

He wants everything with her. All the things he’d always deemed trivial or foolish. Things he never thought were in the cards for him. Ethan wants them, with her. More than he’s ever wanted anything. 

————

It’s hours before he sees her again, once she’s out of surgery and safely in a patient room. The halls are dark, night falling quickly over Boston. Ethan looks down at his watch as he makes to Genevieve’s room. 

Right now, they should be sitting in his box at the opera house. Listening to the final beats of the music as he prepares to get down on one knee. Right now he should be proposing instead of walking into her dimly lit hospital room and seeing her hooked up to machines.  

Ethan slowly walks over to her bedside. She’s breathing on her own, which is a good sign, the gash on her forehead stitched up. The blood is gone from her face as well, her porcelain skin no longer hidden beneath splotches of red. 

“Christ, Gen…”

He takes her hand in his, thumb running across her now bruised knuckles. A small desperate laugh leaving his lips as he realizes they’re defense wounds. His vivacious and fierce love did her best to fight off her attacker. But her fingers feel like ice, cold and frail. Gen’s hands are always cold, something he teases her frequently for, but this feels different. It feels deathly. 

The thought of her still being so close to death sends another wave of trepidation over him. 

There’s a knock on the door and Ethan turns to see Harper with the scalpel jockey behind her. “She made it through surgery. It was touch and go, but -“ She stops suddenly, no doubt seeing the anguish written all over his face. “Ethan,” 

He clears his throat, doing his best to swallow back the tears that are once again burning him from the inside out. “Thank you.” 

Harper turns to the resident behind her, “Lahela, go update your friends.”

“Sure thing.” He disappears quickly, running down the hall. 

“She’s going to be fine.” Harper gives him a small smile, walking fully into the room. “You picked a strong one.”

Ethan lets out a wry laugh, she isn’t wrong. Genevieve’s determination and strength are one of the many things he loves about her. 

“Naveen told me you were planning on proposing tonight.”

“Has he told the entire hospital?” Ethan rolls his eyes with a deep sigh, he had explicitly told Naveen to keep his plans to himself. 

“Probably, but we’ve all made sure not to let it slip in front of Genevieve. I have to say, I never thought you were the marrying type.”

“Neither did I, but Gen is -” Ethan sits in the chair next to Genevieve’s bed, running a hand down his face. “She’s the love of my life, Harper.” He falls back against the chair, no longer able to hold back the tears that have been just under the surface all day. 

“I know.” Harper moves to sit on the arm of the chair, a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “The hardest part is over. As long as she makes it through the night, I expect a full recovery.” 

Ethan closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, taking a deep breath to settle himself. “I have to call her parents.” 

“We can have a nurse do it.”

“No, it should be me.” He moves to stand, with every intention of getting up and out of the room but he feels frozen. His eyes falling back onto Genevieve. 

Ethan closes his eyes again, reaching down to a place he hasn’t been to in a long time. A place where he can hide his emotions and focus, where his walls are sky high and protective. A place that Genevieve had long since demolished. 

“Take a second, Ethan.”

He shakes his head, leaving the room without a second glance. “I’m fine.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: how are we feeling after that? lol you still have a whole chapter and a half of angst after this before we get to the fluff. And just know, I am delighting in your pain, its bringing me joy lmao - Sara <3

tag list: 

@queencarb, @overwhelminglyaquarius, @me-and-my-choices, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @crazy-loca-blog, @a-crepusculo, @drakewalkerfantasy, @ohchoices, @adrex04, @udishaman, @drariellevalentine, @custaroonie, @archxxronrookie, @terrm9, @maurine07, @openheartthot, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @aworldoffandoms, @caseyvalentineramsey, @dulceghernandez, @elwetritsche75, @emotionalswift2, @thegreentwin, @starrystarrytrouble, @utterlyinevitable, @angela8754, @fireycookie

LMK if you want to be added or removed from the list :)

[writingwhatneedswriting]

My God "Stop talking" is so fucking good//you're one talented person! Could I request a yandere! Jotaro (p3)'s, reaction to reader-whose also a stand user but it's extremely weak in combat, telling him she has a stalker, aka another yandere who is also a strong stand user? I wand d r a m a, and I'm a thirsty hoe jotaro. Preferably a fanfic, but headcanons are alright too!

Aw, thank you so much! It means a lot to know people like my writing. I’m happy to write Yandere!Jotaro. I’ll give you as much drama as I can (and maybe a little NSFW for the funsies <3).  BTW, this will also be a multi-parter cus there’s wayyy too much plot for me to put in just one lol

I will protect you - Y!Jotaro x reader

“Uh, Jotaro,” She asked. God, he loved her voice. The upwards intonation she always used when she said his name made his heart leap into his throat. He adored it. What he wouldn’t gave to make her say his name again and again. Even though they were in the same class, sitting only a desk’s length away, she always seemed so far. Sometimes he listened to her writing her notes, wondering if she ever stopped and just watched him from her vantage point behind him. Given the chance, he’d swap seats and watch her like a hawk all fucking day.  After a moment of silence, he stopped and she said his name again. It sent a shiver down his spine. If he ignored her again, she’d just get grumpy and walk away, so he turned to face her, arm over the back of his chair. He had the time and the chance to talk to her, as class hadn’t started yet. She was the only reason he ever bothered to show up. Well, her and avoiding his mom. “Yeah? What’s the matter?” “I... I need to talk to you about something... could you meet me at lunch, around the back of school?” “Why? What’s your deal?” He grunted. Despite his affections for her, he had a reputation to maintain. He couldn’t just follow her around and bend to her every whim. Not in front of anyone anyways. He watched her eagerly, and then saw it. Her stand manifested, behind her, threading it’s fingers gently through her hair. The thing was useless in a fight, in the middle of one anyway. Total Eclipse could only calm someone down and stop their heart racing. She’d used it on him once, when he’d almost gotten into a fight over her. Still, the fact it had manifested worried Jotaro.  “I... I can’t tell you. Not here. Just, please will you meet me there?” Of course I will. I’d go anywhere, anytime just to see you. Please, tell me you’re going to confess to me. “Yeah, sure. Bring lunch, I don’t want to waste my time.” he grunted, before turning away again.  He could hear the smile on her lips when she laughed. “You know I always make you a bento, Jotaro.” He smiled in return, before wiping it from his face.  ~~~ By the time lunch had rolled around, Jotaro had been waiting for her for ten minutes. He hurried right there to wait for her, whilst she seemed to be lolly-gagging around in the halls somewhere. After a while pondering as to if he was being set-up, that she was luring him there to get him to confess to ruin his reputation, he heard a noise. A peculiar, but familiar noise.  “Jotaro!” she hissed. “Jotaro, I-I’m stuck!” Instead of going the regular route through the halls and out the doors, she was climbing out of the window of what seemed to be the girls bathrooms, her backpack dangling from her fingers as she tried to squeeze through.  How could I ever think she’d do something so cruel? He shook off his prior concerns, before taking the bag and placing it down, before taking her arms and pulling her down, to have her land safely in his embrace. He glanced down at her, eyes locking on her bust for a moment. That must have been what got her stuck in the first place. He smirked, before letting her down with a gentleness many would assume was uncharacteristic of him. She smiled at him, flattening her skirt against her bum and thighs, before sitting down on the grass, prompting Jotaro to do the same as she fished out their bento boxes.  “So, why am I here?” he asked, before gruffly taking his without thanks and starting to eat. She looked down at her own food, gently prodding at it’s contents with her chopsticks. Again, Total Eclipse manifested, toying with her hair again, to soothe her.  “Someone’s stalking me.”  That nearly got Star Platinum out.  “Stalking you?” He asked, no longer thinking of food or confessions. She nodded. “I... I caught him. Last night. My cat wanted to get inside again so, i got up and went to the window and I saw a flash.” She looked up at him. “They were taking photos of me. Since then I’ve... noticed a lot more. I felt someone watching me all the way to school and... I even found a note in my locker.” “Give it to me.” he demanded, putting the chopsticks into the box, before holding his hand out to her. “Give me the note, Y/n.” She tucked a lock of her H/C hair behind her ear, before once again rummaging through her bag, before handing him a pristinely folded bit of paper. He snatched it and opened it, leering at the words it possessed.  “My dearest Y/N, it breaks my heart to know you found my secret. i can only hope that you didn’t see my face when you caught me last night. It is of no consequence. You won’t tell anyone, will you? I’d hate to have to take matters int my own hands.” There was no name signed, and thus no target for Jotaro’s blistering rage. he crumpled up the note and tossed it aside, before looking back at her. “Who is he? Did you see his face? Did you see him?” She didn’t respond, and Total Eclipse’s preening got even more fervent in its attempts to calm her.  “Tell me, Y/N.” he demanded, grabbing her wrist tightly. “You wanted to tell me, right? So tell me!” “Noriaki Kayoin.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #465

“the old man then prepares to die regretfully  /  that old man here is me”

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? No, but I had a guy who wouldn't leave me alone since pre-k. Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series? OMG I forgot about those!! I loved them!!! Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies? AHHHHHHHHH yes!!! :') Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. My dresser was COMPLETELY covered in them. Who did you look up to most as a child? Steve Irwin, 100%. He was my hero. Did your parents let you drink soda when you were little? Some, yes. I wish they hadn't, with the dependency I have now. Did you ever watch The Powerpuff Girls or Dexter’s Laboratory? Of course! I strongly preferred the former, though. Did you watch Blue's Clues? HOW TIMELY. :'''') I did! My little sister and I loved it. What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? Just gimme a good 'ole double chocolate cake and I was one happy kiddo, ha ha. Did you ever want to grow up? Sure didn't. I was smart. How often do you listen to classic rock? It varies, really. Sometimes I'm in the mood for it and binge it, other times I want newer music. What about country? Just about never. What is the most amount of money you have ever lost? Not a whole lot. I'm very careful with money. Have you ever hurt yourself just to get attention? No. Whenever I did it in the past, it was always to relocate the pain I was experiencing, and because I felt like I deserved it. Last person to get on your nerves? I'd rather not give it the time of day. Are you in any pain right now? No. Last thing you ate? It was one of those chocolate chip Clif Thins things. I HATE every Clif product I've ever tried until these, so they're a good option if I really want something sweet that's actually decently healthy and doesn't taste like I'm eating pure fiber, like most of their products. Name three things apart from trust and loyalty that you need in a relationship. Open, honest communication, similar interests as well as morals, and pro-LGBTQ+, if I'm just naming three. How far away are you from the place that you were born? Like... not even ten minutes. Do you live near anybody who creeps you out? Nah. Then again though I know pretty much nobody in my neighborhood. Is there anywhere that you are too afraid to go to alone? Where? Hm. If for whatever strange reason I had to, I would absolutely not want to go into a men's restroom alone. Would you be upset if you had a child who decided to make “adult films?” Despite the fact I don't negatively judge porn stars if they are smart, cautious, an informed about what they do and how to stay safe... I think I'd be very, very scared if my child wanted that, especially if it was my daughter, because she can actually get pregnant. Yes, abortion's an option, but... still. I don't want her to have to be faced with that decision. I also would be terrified of my hypothetical son getting someone pregnant, especially because he's then not the one with say on what happens to that child. So ultimately, if I was ever in this situation, I feel like I'd need to be alone with my partner to just cry for a while and then talk with them and look at the situation factually and with regard for my child's happiness. What pizza topping would you never, ever, EVER eat? Sardines. /gag What annoys you most about your computer? The microphone is broken. Do you prefer to read blogs or watch vlogs? I'm not huge on either, but watch vlogs. Do you know anyone who doesn’t celebrate Christmas? No. Do you own a snowglobe? I wish I did, they cute. What was the last thing that upset you? It was more disappointing than upsetting, but I was nevertheless super bummed that my bf had to scoot us hanging out a day back today when I was v excited for it. What is something you are behind on? It sounds unbelievable, I know, but I am IMMENSELY behind with Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty. Like, I'm somewhere around four episodes in. It's so hard to explain: like, I want to watch it badly, but I don't want to set aside time to sit in front of the TV to actually do it? It makes very little sense. I'll catch up eventually, I just... haven't yet. Who DO you go to for advice when you need it? Mom, Sara, my therapist... Will you go caroling this year? God no. Never have, never will. Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? Bro what the fuck, of course I would. Would you rather have a daughter or a son? Daughter. Did you get bullied more as a child, a teenager, or an adult? I'm very grateful that I was never truly bullied. If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? FUCK YES. Are you allergic to your favorite animal? I wouldn't know; I've never been near one. :( What’s your favorite country besides the USA? Lol what a presumptuous question. Probably Africa. Did you get senior pictures taken? No, even though I wanted them. :/ I don't remember why I didn't? How often do you like to have sex? I don't care. Whenever it feels right. Are you any good at math? OH MY GOD NO Do you like Dairy Queen? I fucking love Dairy Queen. Ever had their Oreo Cupfection? *chef's kiss* If you had to get advice from someone of the opposite sex, who would you go to? Girt. Or my psychiatrist. Really depends. Does talking about sex make you feel uncomfortable? GODDAMN RIGHT IT DOES. Few things make me MORE uncomfortable. Are you more scared of going to the doctors or dentists? Doctors. Dentists are ezpz for me. At the doctor, meanwhile, I'm scared of them finding something seriously wrong. Do you get along with your significant other’s friends? I've only met one, and that was YEEEEAAARRRRSSS ago. He was chill, though. Do you enjoy the sound of crickets at night and birds in the morning? omfg YES Do you enjoy board games? Not really. Do you need a haircut? I actually just got one the other day. It's shorter than I would've liked, but it's whatever. Hair grows back, and mine does fast. Do you feel bad when you kill bugs? Yes. They've got the same right to be here as we do. What’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent completely alone? A week or two when my mom and sis went to the beach (I think?) for a dance competition. Have you ever been in a situation where you needed a lawyer? Yes, when I presented my disability case. Do you know anyone who has been evicted? My mom, sister, and me because we couldn't keep up with rent. What’s your favorite macaron flavor? Never tried one. How often do you have friends over to your house? The only "friend" that comes over to my house is my boyfriend. Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Front flips, yes; never back flips, because I was scared of breaking my neck. What about a flip off of a diving board? No. Does your country have free healthcare? No, but it fucking should. What is your sexuality? Bro I don't even know anymore lmao. I just say pansexual. "Queer" might fit me best, though. I really don't know, but it doesn't really matter. What’s the last show you watched? Attack on Titan w/ Girt! I'm actually keen to see more of it. The darkness and heartbreak of it is right up my alley. How is your road rage? I don't really experience road rage because I'm too engulfed by terror to focus on anything else, honestly. Do you have any facial piercings? Yeah; I have a vertical labret in my lip. Have you ever been to a rehab center? So this is dumb as shit, but all the psych hospitals I've been to doubled as rehab centers. Which made NO goddamn sense because those who are suffering with mental illnesses leading to suicidal thoughts/tendencies are unique from those dealing with addiction; both require individual treatments and should not be grouped, imo. How long did your shortest relationship last? Not even a day. What would your life be like if you had married your first love? That's... scary to imagine. Sometimes, that was all I wanted. But seeing as he left because of my depression... it probably would have been catastrophic. He was the only person I ever wanted kids with, so there probably would have been children involved in all that madness, which no little one deserves. Him leaving ultimately led to my healing, too, so I don't know where I would've been mental health-wise if he stayed. What is the most difficult or time-consuming thing you’ve ever cooked? Would you make it again? I don’t cook. I need to learn, though... Have you ever had a platonic friend that everyone insisted you should be in a relationship with? He's my boyfriend now, ha ha ha. Is there anything about a person’s sexual past that might stop you from wanting to date them? Yes. I'm too lazy to get into that stuff rn, though. If someone asked your closest friends/family members what career path might suit you best, what do you think they would say? I'm almost certain they would all say veterinarian. How did you and your significant other celebrate your last anniversary? Slow down buddy, we haven't even been together a month lmao. Who was the last person to make you a home-cooked meal? What did they make? Mom, but I don't recall the last thing she made from scratch. Girt is doing that tomorrow, though! :') He's making grilled chicken stuffed with jalapenos and spinach and something else I can't remember and it sounds BANGIN'. What’s the weirdest, rudest, or most ridiculous thing a guest has ever done in your home? Hmmm... I'll have to get back to ya on that. Has anyone ever told you you’re manipulative? I think someone has, yes. Do you know anyone who owns their own business? Yep. Who was the recipient of your very first kiss? Jason. Do you prefer shrimp or crab? SHRIMP. Crab is mushy and disgusting. Do you prefer fiction or non-fiction books/movies? I strongly prefer fiction. Have you ever seen an eclipse? Plenty of lunar eclipses, yes. Who is your favourite video game character? Pyramid Head, Spyro, Cynder... I have a lot, those three are just panning out as strong contenders. Are you the type of person who knows exactly what they want in life? lol Do you have commitment issues? Not at all. What was the last thing you felt nostalgic about? uhhh Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad. Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? OMG one time in his prime, Teddy got loose on a snowy night and went on a full-blown adventure. I was SOBBING. My dad had to chase him down. Do any of your exes know each other? Juan knows Jason, Jason knows Juan and Girt, and Sara knows Girt. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? "Vaccines cause autism." Fuck out my face. What was the very first election you voted in? This most recent presidential one.